


Same Deep Water

by braezenkitty



Series: Same Deep Water [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Kissing, Bisexual Dean, Case Fic, Drowning, F/M, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Haunted Houses, Haunting, Human Castiel, Hunter Castiel, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Interrupting Sam, Jealous Dean, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nearly Human Castiel, Not Really Character Death, Protective Dean Winchester, Sharing a Bed, Team Free Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 01:43:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8558320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braezenkitty/pseuds/braezenkitty
Summary: Team Free Will hits the road to California to investigate the Brookdale Lodge, a haunted hotel nestled in the fog and giant redwoods of the Santa Cruz mountains. It’s been plagued by numerous suspicious deaths over its long history, the most well-known being the drowning of a six year old girl in the creek that runs through the middle of the Lodge’s famous restaurant, the Brookroom. Locals say the place is cursed, and connoisseurs of the paranormal regularly prowl the premises hoping to catch a glimpse of one of its many spirit residents. When a regular at the Lodge’s bar, the Mermaid Room, turns up drowned in the Lodge’s empty pool, Sam, Dean, and Cas decide to check it out. After a long break spent recovering from their battle with the Darkness, it seems like just the kind of open and shut case they need to ease back into hunting… but the Brookdale Lodge lives up to its dark reputation when something seeks to draw them into the water and drag them all under the surface.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So many people to thank... but one quick note for readers first: I began writing this fic almost exactly one year ago during season 11 of the show, so there is a bit of canon divergence. I was writing under the assumption that Cas' grace would be damaged in some way during the process of defeating Amara and/or booting Lucifer out of his body, so Cas in this story is pretty much human. The events in this story take place about six months later, giving Cas some time to adjust to his newly human status.
> 
> With that said, here come the thank you's: First and foremost, [pod7et](http://pod7et.tumblr.com) for your encouragement and commiseration while I was writing—you kept me going when all I wanted to do with give up—and for being an amazing beta and helping me whip this mess into shape. I also owe thanks to [erilainenmuori](http://erilainenmuori.tumblr.com) and [shannon-kind](http://shannon-kind.tumblr.com) for providing last minute beta services and making me feel so much better about this story when I was panicking about it not being ready.
> 
> And last, but definitely not least, [goodquestionharlie](http://goodquestionharlie.tumblr.com/) for stepping in at the last minute to create [gorgeous artwork](http://goodquestionharlie.tumblr.com/post/153249285073/title-same-deep-water-ao3-author-braezenkitty) that you seemed to have plucked right out of my brain, for listening to my rambling and accomodating my last minute changes, and for geeking out over Ghost Adventures with me ;) It was such a pleasure to work with you.
> 
> This is my first DCBB and the longest story I've ever written, and the process has been infinitely frustrating at times but immensely enjoyable for the most part. I almost gave up a few times, but thanks to encouragement from some awesome friends I kept going and it's finally finished and I feel like I'm giving birth by putting it out into the world for everyone to read. It's a little (okay a lot) nerve wracking. The story was inspired by the real Brookdale Lodge and the beautiful, quirky, fog drenched Santa Cruz mountains, my favorite place on earth. I hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> If you're into listening to music while you read, here's the [playlist](http://8tracks.com/braezenkitty/same-deep-water) I listened to while writing this.

 

“Man, I need to get out of this bunker,” Dean said. “I’m going stir crazy.” His flimsy metal lawn chair creaked as he leaned over the armrest and flipped open the lid of the battered green ice chest next to him. He sifted through the ice and pulled out two bottles of beer.

“We are outside, Dean,” Cas said, his gaze fixed somewhere on the horizon past the edge of the bunker’s roof.

Dean looked at him, ready with an exasperated sigh and an eye roll, but the corner of Cas’ mouth twitched. Six months ago, Dean probably wouldn’t have caught the motion, or recognized it as indicative of Cas being a sarcastic shit. But six months ago Cas probably wouldn’t have allowed even that tiny sign of humor to show. Dean’s sigh turned into a snort. “You know what I mean,” he said, shoving one of the beers at Cas’ chest. “ _Assbutt._ ”

Cas’ stoic expression broke, and he huffed a laugh as he grabbed the beer and twisted the top off. “You’re right,” he said, eyeing Dean with a crooked smile, “I do.”

Dean’s pulse jumped when he met Cas’ azure gaze. Cas’ invariably subtle smiles—still a rare occurrence though they’d grown more frequent in recent months—never failed to send a wave of warmth crashing over Dean. At some point, Dean had given up trying to contain his answering grins.

He still held back the urges brought on by being the focus of Cas’ smiles though. They made him feel reckless, made him want crazy things. Things like hooking an arm around Cas’ shoulders and pulling him close—maybe even planting a kiss on his temple. Dangerous things. Though the longer he stared at Cas with his lopsided grin, his face glowing under the fading rays of the sun and blue eyes glittering, the harder it was to remember why those things were dangerous.

Dean tore his eyes away and focused on twisting the top off his bottle. Cas turned his gaze back to the sunset. Dean guzzled a fair amount of his beer and stared unfocused at the clouds swimming by, bathed in orange and pink, before continuing his earlier thought. “I just mean this year has been tough, man, and—”

“Understatement,” Cas interrupted.

“Heh, yeah,” Dean said, curling forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “All the shit we had to deal with—Amara, Lucifer, fuckin’ God himself, I mean _what_ the _hell_...” Dean trailed off, shaking his head. “I could barely keep my head above water most days, you know?”

“Yes,” Cas said, dropping his gaze and releasing a breath, “it felt like an exercise in futility, like fighting a war we couldn’t possibly win. It would have been easier to stop fighting, just let go and slip under...” he trailed off.

“Yeah, well good thing you had me to drag your ass back to the surface,” Dean said, glancing over his shoulder to smirk at Cas.

“Indeed,” Cas said, the corner of his mouth quirking with a smile. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for that.”

Dean grunted and shrugged, letting his gaze fall back to the bottle he rolled between his palms. “No need. You woulda done the same for me. Have in fact, literally,” he said, sitting back in his chair and taking another sip of beer. “We got it made here, I know that. We got all the creature comforts. You, me, and Sam—we’re all alive and relatively happy, no one's possessed—”

Cas barked a laugh, and Dean let himself chuckle at the absurdity of their definition of okay before continuing. “If anyone in the history of humanity ever deserved a break, it’s us. We needed time to rest up, get our strength back. But as much as I enjoy sitting out here drinking beers and bullshitting with you every night, hanging out with Sam and Eileen, even working on the garden you roped me into helping with—it’s just—I don’t know, like there’s this itch under my skin that I just can’t scratch.”

“You’re a hunter,” Cas said, turning his gaze on Dean.

“Yeah,” Dean said, picking at the label on his beer, “I stay in one spot for too long, start feeling like I’m suffocating.”

“I know the feeling,” Cas said, turning to watch the sun as it dipped below the horizon. “It was... difficult for me having my grace back, but not my wings. I wasn’t powerless, and there was a chance I’d be able to heal my wings and regain the ability to fly eventually. But now, the small amount of grace I have left isn’t even enough to heal a scratch without leaving me exhausted for days. I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that I’ve lost my wings for good. It leaves me feeling trapped, in a way.”

“Sorry, Cas,” Dean said, resting a hand on Cas’ shoulder and squeezing, “that sucks. If I could do anything to help, you know I would.”

“You do help,” Cas said, pinning Dean with a solemn gaze. He covered Dean’s hand with his own and glanced away, blushing. Dean’s heart raced at the contact. “I feel like I can breathe easier being up here with you and nothing but open sky above us.”

Cas leaned back in his chair, tilting his head back and gazing upwards. A sudden, overwhelming desire to close the distance between them and trace the long line of Cas’ throat with lips and tongue flooded over Dean. His heart pounded in his chest.

Their friendship had been evolving into something more intimate over the past few months. Touches and looks were allowed to linger, and they’d opened up to each other, talking about things they’d never spoken of with anyone else. But Dean hadn’t had much experience with men beyond flirting, and Cas was so inexperienced with sex in general—he wasn’t sure Cas would even be into anything physical with him. The last thing he wanted to do was put the moves on Cas and freak him out or get rejected. Even still, it was getting more and more difficult for Dean to deny the unspoken potential between them.

Cas stroked the back of Dean’s wrist with a thumb, drawing Dean out of his thoughts. Dean suddenly wanted nothing more than to stop struggling and dive headfirst into whatever this was between them—consequences be damned.

“Cas, I—uh,” he said, the words catching in his throat when Cas turned away from the sky to look at him.

“Yes, Dean?” Cas said, voice quiet and low, barely above a whisper. Intimate. His thumb continued its slow traverse of Dean’s wrist. The light caress felt like it was stoking a fire inside of Dean.

Dean cleared his throat. “I just—”

The hatch behind them flipped open with a smack and Dean jumped, pulling his hand from Cas’ shoulder. He turned in his seat, glaring at his brother’s dumb head when it cleared the opening in the roof.

“Hey guys, I think I found a case.”

“That’s great, Sam,” Dean said, slumping back into his chair, “we’ll be in in a minute.”

Beside him, Cas finished his beer and tossed the empty bottle into the ice chest. Sam ducked inside and Dean stood, downing the beer left in his bottle and dropping it in with Cas’. He gave Cas a weak smile as he lifted the ice chest, carrying it to the hatch door. “Come on, buddy,” he called over his shoulder, “maybe a case is exactly what we need right now.”

 

 

 

“So I ran across this article,” Sam said, sitting on the edge of his chair at the library table and opening up his laptop. “Seems like there’s some weird stuff happening at a hotel out in California.”

“I’m sure there’s a lot of weird in California,” Dean said, slumping into a chair across from Sam. “Is it our kind of weird?”

“Maybe,” Sam said, “the place is rumored to be haunted.”

Cas shuffled into the library with more beers, handing one to Sam and passing the other across the table to Dean.

“Sam found something weird,” Dean said, taking the bottle from Cas and ignoring the swoop in his stomach when their fingers brushed.

Cas hummed and sat in the chair next to Sam, glancing at the laptop screen. “Our kind of weird?”

“Could be. There’s this hotel in a little mountain town in California—the Brookdale Lodge—used to be a high class place back in the 40’s and 50’s, but it’s pretty run down now,” Sam said, twisting the top off his beer. “People say it’s cursed. At least two girls have drowned there, and a couple of fires started under suspicious circumstances, killing even more people.”

“Okay,” Dean said, “so you thinkin’ ghosts are killing these people? Starting the fires?”

“It’s possible. But that’s not the weird part.”

“It’s not?” Dean said, raising an eyebrow at Sam and sipping his beer.

“No. The place has a bar that’s still open—the rest of it is closed to the public because it’s in such bad shape—and one of the regulars was found in the pool.”

“So,” Dean dragged the word out, “dude got smashed at the bar, went for a walk, fell into the pool and drowned.”

“That does sound entirely within the realm of possibility,” Cas said, setting his beer down and squinting at Sam.

“Exactly. Thank you, Cas,” Dean said, then turned back to Sam. “That doesn’t sound weird at all.”

“Yeah, he drowned, but get this—” Sam said, leaning back in his chair and pausing to look between Dean and Cas, “there was no water in the pool.”

“No water at all?” Dean asked.

“None,” Sam said, “it’s been completely drained for years.”

“Hmm,” Cas said, taking a sip of his beer, “that certainly does sound like our kind of weird.”

“Think it’s like that ghost ship we had to rescue Bela from? A vengeful spirit going around drowning people?” Dean asked.

“Could be,” Sam said. “I think we should check it out. We haven’t been on a case in a while, and this seems pretty straightforward—find the ghost, do a little salt and burn, and we’re out of there. And if it’s nothing, well, we’ll be in California. Maybe we can make a stop at the beach.”

“Sold,” Dean said, pushing back from the table and standing.

“I’ll go get packed,” Cas said, grabbing his beer and heading to his room.

“Alright, then, we got ourselves a case,” Sam said, focusing on his laptop. “I’ll see what else I can dig up.”

“We should call it an early night and leave first thing in the morning,” Dean said, walking around the table. “Don’t stay up too late.” He ruffled Sam’s hair as he passed by, dodging Sam’s attempt to swat at him and jogging to catch up with Cas.

“Hey, wait up,” he called, and Cas stopped to look at him. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas said, his eyebrows drawing together. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, just, you know,” Dean stammered, “with your battery drained or whatever. Are you ready to go out on a hunt as a human?”

Cas sighed. “Yes, Dean. I can handle a hunt. I do have experience hunting—even as a human.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean said, stuffing down the guilt he still carried from leaving Cas to deal with that experience on his own. “I just—you’ve been through a lot of shit this year, I just don’t want you to take on more than you can handle.”

“I’m fine, Dean,” Cas said, rolling his eyes, “and you’re not the only one going ‘stir crazy’ here, remember?”

“Alright, alright,” Dean said, “but dude, you gotta quit with the finger quotes.” Cas glared for a moment while Dean struggled to contain a laugh, then turned to continue down the hallway.

“Goodnight, Dean,” he called over his shoulder.

“Yeah, alright. ‘Night, Cas,” he said to Cas’ back as he turned to his room.


	2. Chapter 2

“Dude, look,” Dean said, glancing at the rear view mirror and jerking a thumb towards the back window of the Impala, “it’s a museum about you.”

Sam scowled at Dean, but turned to look anyway. Through the fog, he could just see a tiny, red log building with a huge sign over its door that said “BIGFOOT” in green capital letters. “Discovery Museum” was written in a smaller font underneath. There was even a statue of what looked like a bigfoot holding a baby, or whatever baby bigfoots were supposed to be called, on its shoulders.

“Very funny.” Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to continue scrolling through articles about the Brookdale Lodge on his phone. “Jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean threw back automatically, “or should I say sasquatch? Or sasquabitch? Oh! Bitchsquatch!”

Sam shook his head and sighed, not bothering to look up from his phone. “You’re fucking hilarious.”

“I know. We should stop by there on our way home. Maybe they got a lead on a girl sasquatch we can hook you up with,” Dean said. He smirked at Sam, chuckling as he turned back to focus on the road. “Think they shave their legs?”

Sam inhaled to the count of four, then released the breath. It had been a long couple of days, with the three of them driving and sleeping in shifts—well, three of them _after_ Dean and Cas finally settled their ten hour long argument about whether Cas could handle driving the Impala. After a short stop in Reno where Eileen was working a case and a few hours of sleep in an actual bed, they’d been back on the road by dawn. Sam’s patience was running thin. He ignored Dean and continued scanning the article on his phone without actually reading it.

“Not interested?” Dean pushed.

“No. And I don’t think Eileen would appreciate it if I came home with a girl, sasquatch or not.”

“Hey, she might be into threesomes,” Dean said. “Don't know if you don’t ask.”

Sam gritted his teeth, keeping his eyes on his phone.

“Okay then, your loss,” Dean said, chuckling. “Hey, wake up sleeping beauty back there, would you? We’re almost there.”

“Sleeping _beauty_ , huh?” Sam said, raising an eyebrow at Dean. Dean rolled his eyes, keeping his gaze on the road. A pink flush crept up Dean’s neck, and Sam snorted but let it go. He turned to the back seat. “Hey Cas, time to wake up, buddy.”

The blanket covered lump curled up on the leather seat shifted and grumbled, then stilled.

“Your ‘Sleeping Beauty’ won’t wake up. I think he needs a kiss from his true love,” Sam said, smirking at Dean. “You’re up.”

“Shut your cakehole, Sam,” Dean said, scowling at the road.

“What? You can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” Sam laughed and reached over the seat to nudge the lump under the blanket. “Cas, hey, we’re almost there. Wakey wakey.”

Cas grumbled and pulled the blanket down far enough to reveal one bleary eye. “I’m still tired,” he said, then disappeared under the blanket again.

“We’re all tired, Cas,” Dean called over his shoulder. “We’ll get you some coffee when we get there, with lots of cream and sugar.”

The lump under the blankets grumbled again, but Cas’ head popped out this time, hair sticking up in all directions. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he sat up and let the blanket slide off his shoulders. He straightened the flannel he wore over a faded black t-shirt with ZOSO emblazoned across the chest and stifled a yawn. “Why is being human so tiring?”

Neither Sam nor Dean answered—Sam because he was trying not to laugh at Dean making heart eyes at Cas’ reflection in the rearview mirror, and Dean because he was busy making the aforementioned heart eyes. It was a rhetorical question anyway—one that Cas asked regularly. He hadn’t been living without his angel mojo for long, but it had been long enough for both Sam and Dean to learn he didn’t really want an answer.

They continued to drive in silence, except for Cas’ occasional yawns, until Dean hit play on the tape deck and Glenn Frey started singing about being on a dark desert highway.

“Really?” Sam said, giving Dean a sidelong glance. “Hotel California?”

“What? It’s a good song,” Dean said, smirking. He started singing along, slightly off key: “ _up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night._ ”

“You’re an idiot,” Sam said, turning to the window to hide his smile and watch the scenery go by.

Giant redwood trees, fog clinging to their branches, bordered the winding two lane road, and wooden plank houses peeked out from between them. Most of the houses were surrounded by a plethora of colorful lawn decorations—though there were no actual lawns, just driveways, dirt, and trees. There were more wooden carvings like the bigfoot statues they’d passed, a few welded metal sculptures, piles of firewood, old rusty trucks, and dilapidated RVs sprinkled around. Sunlight filtered through the treetops only to be diffused by the thick layer of fog that muted colors and obscured details in the landscape.

Following a curve in the road, a dull yellow building sporting a larger than life painting of James Dean on its wall came into view. Dean slowed the Impala to gawk, and Sam noticed a wooden sign announcing this was the Brookdale Lodge. “This is it, Dean.”

“This place?” Dean said, glancing at Sam. “With the giant James Dean?”

“Yep, see?” Sam said, pointing at the sign. The Impala slowed to a crawl and Sam was glad there weren’t any other cars on the road despite it being close to midmorning. People must be cozied up in their cabins, hiding from the cool mist.

“Awesome,” Dean said, a boyish grin lighting up his face.

Sam huffed a laugh, shaking his head at how easily entertained his brother was. Dean turned into the next driveway on the left. They surveyed the main part of the lodge—a shabby building shrouded by redwoods and fog that lurked at the back of the parking lot.

“Are you sure this place is open?” Dean said, peering out the windshield as he steered the Impala towards the lodge. “Looks like a dump.”

“Partially,” Sam said, eyeing the rows of boarded up windows and doors as they passed one wing of rooms. “The bar’s open to the public—”

“Well, thank goodness for small miracles,” Dean interrupted.

“And the owners sometimes let paranormal investigators stay for a night or two to collect evidence of ghosts. They’re supposed to finish repairs and start taking guests again sometime this year.”

“Looks like they’re going to need more than a small miracle for that,” Cas mumbled from the back seat.

Dean chuckled, pulling the Impala up next to a giant RV parked in front of the building and turned the engine off. “Well, let’s go find us some ghosts to gank,” he said, opening his door to step out.

 

 

“Hi there,” Dean called out to the grey-haired, disheveled man who had emerged from the RV at the growling of the Impala’s engine. "We're the Ghostfacers—here to do some paranormal investigating.” Dean tried not to let his internal grimace show, but the bitchface Sam wore said he wasn’t doing a great job of it.

Dean didn’t often have trouble lying, but using the Ghostfacers’ name didn’t sit right with him. Not because he felt bad about posing as them, but because he was embarrassed. Sam had argued that posing as paranormal investigators would give them more access to the lodge than posing as FBI agents though. Dean had begrudgingly agreed.

“Hi, sir,” Sam said, slinging his laptop bag over his shoulder and striding over to shake the man’s hand. “I’m Sam, I think we spoke on the phone a few days ago. Are you Paul?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s me,” Paul said, the suspicious glare on his face morphing to a smile as he shook hands with Sam.

“This is my brother, Dean, and that’s Cas," Sam said, gesturing at the the two of them with an outstretched thumb.

“Nice to meet you boys,” Paul said, shaking each of their hands in turn. “So which one of you’s the medium?”

“Uh, medium?” Dean said, “I think we’re all at least a large. Sammy’s probably an extra large on account of being abandoned by a bigfoot family as a baby.”

That earned Dean another bitchface and he reveled in it, smiling at his own cleverness.

“Sorry,” Sam said, turning to Paul, “my brother thinks he’s funny. Cas is our medium.”

“Oh, you meant that kind of medium,” Dean said with an awkward laugh. “Of course, yeah, that’s Cas here.” He patted Cas on the back, and Cas jumped at the contact, tearing his eyes away from the building. Dean frowned at Cas. He was acting even more out of it than usual.

“Seems like he’s picked up on something already,” Paul said. “You be careful in there, keep your walls up, or whatever it is you sensitive folks do to protect your,” Paul waved his hands in the air around his head, “senses or whatever. We got a lot of paranormal activity goin' on here. It’s easy to get overwhelmed."

“Yes, thank you for the warning,” Cas mumbled.

“Lemme grab the keys and I’ll give you the tour,” Paul said, turning back to the RV, “then I’ll show you to the rooms we got set up for you." He stepped inside and out of sight, letting the RV’s screen door slam shut behind him.

“They got rooms for us?” Dean whispered loudly at Sam. “Maybe we should use this Ghostfacers schtick more often.”

“Dude, shut up,” Sam said, glancing from Dean to the RV and then back, meaningfully.

Dean rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. He looked over at Cas, who stood not even a foot away but seemed to be in a completely different world. He was looking back at the building again, squinting up at the second story windows.

Paul emerged from the RV, a set of keys jangling in his hand. “Alright, follow me boys.”

Dean nudged Cas, bumping their shoulders together as Paul walked past with Sam close on his heels. Cas dragged his eyes away from the building to look at Dean.

“You okay, Cas?”

Cas hesitated, glancing back at the building before answering. “I’m fine,” he said, then turned to follow Paul and Sam. “We should go in.”

Dean stared after Cas for a moment, then jogged to catch up to the group. Sam was already waiting at the door while Paul sifted through the keys on his keyring.

“Can you tell us about any specific sightings, cold spots or funny smells, that kind of stuff?” Sam asked.

“Sure, I'll give you the low-down on everything I know about,” Paul said, finding the correct key and unlocking the lodge's oversized wooden double doors. “There’ve been lots of sightings all over the building. They say there’s forty-nine spirits haunting this place.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he glared at Sam as Paul pulled open one of the doors. Sam hadn’t mentioned that little fact in his briefing back at the bunker. Sam shrugged and followed Paul inside.

“There’s been quite a few sightings in the Mermaid Room,” Paul continued as he walked through the lobby, “right over here.” He gestured to a room off to the right and Sam followed him through a wide open archway. Dean followed behind Cas so he could keep an eye on him.

Cas had taken to dressing more casually lately, and Dean’s eyes were drawn to the faded jeans he wore. When Cas had worn the trenchcoat everywhere, Dean hadn’t been able to tell just how great an ass was hiding underneath it. For a dude, of course. It could be distracting. Dean shook himself and focused back on the room they were walking into.

The archway led into a darkened, cave-like bar area. Several run-down, rickety tables were scattered around, and a dark, polished wood bar top spanned the length of the right hand side of the room. It looked worn, but in pretty good shape. Dean took note of the full stock of alcohol lining the mirrored wall behind the bar. What really got his attention though, was the wall directly across from the entry that housed a grid of blue-green windows streaked with mold and flanked by murals of mermaids and sea creatures.

"Welcome to the Mermaid Room, fellas," Paul said, gesturing with arms spread wide. "This part of the lodge is open to the public from two p.m. to two a.m. every night, ‘cept Sundays, and unfortunately we can't shut it down. So any investigating in here will have to happen well after last call."

The homicidal ghost they were here to eradicate better wait till after two a.m. to start murdering people. Dean didn’t want a repeat of the Supernatural convention a few years back. Trying to keep a building full of people who didn't believe in ghosts calm, out of the way, and alive while they ran around swinging iron and blasting off salt rounds was not an easy task.

"Did something happen here?" Cas said, frowning at the creepy wall of windows, head cocked to the side.

"Sure did," Paul answered, "lots of somethings. A few people have drowned in the pool on the other side of this glass. Most recent one being a couple weeks ago. Local guy, Kurt Miller. Used to hold up the bar every Friday and Saturday night.”

“Doesn’t look like there’s any water in there for anyone to drown in,” Dean said, looking past Cas to peer into the pool.

“That’s the weird part,” Paul answered. “Ain’t no water been in that pool for years. Too expensive to keep up when it's not bein' used, so the owner drained it till he could get the place ready for a full opening. But Kurt was found in the bottom of the pool with water in his lungs on a Sunday morning."

"Any way we can talk to the person who found the body?" Dean asked. Sam had read the police and autopsy reports and given them a summary of the most important details, but it always helped to have a first hand account. That and police officers and medical examiners tended not to look for or record signs of death by vengeful spirit.

"Nah, that girl's long gone," Paul said, shaking his head. "She was part of the early morning cleaning crew. Saw quite a few things in her six months working here, and finding Kurt was the last straw. Told her story to the cops, collected her final paycheck, and took off. Didn’t leave no forwarding address or phone number neither.”

"That's too bad," Dean said. Hopefully the local sheriff had her contact information.

"There was a girl that drowned here too, right?" Sam asked.

"That's right. Thirteen year old girl drowned in the pool back in the 70s," Paul said as he walked over to the glass, his gaze fixed on the empty pool beyond. "Sure is eerie sittin' at the bar late at night looking over your shoulder at this thing, knowing some poor little girl lost her life in there with everyone in here not noticin'."

They all stared through the windows in silence for a moment, until Paul shook himself and continued. “Back in the 30s and 40s when the mob ran this place, they say this window was used to show off working girls. They’d swim past the window wearing a number and the men would pick one and give the number to the bartender, then go through that closet over there to an underground tunnel that lets out the other side of the road. They’d meet their girl in one of the cabins over there all discrete like.”

“Seriously?” Dean asked, “the mob ran a brothel out of this place?”

“So the stories go,” Paul said, “and they say not all of the girls met a happy end. Their spirits might be attached to this room too. But most sightings have been in the Brookroom over this way,” Paul said, gesturing at another archway between the bar and the wall with the windows. He turned to walk towards it, and Sam followed.

Dean glanced at Cas, who had been silent for the last few minutes, and saw him standing like a statue, eyes still fixed on the pool. Something was definitely up with him. Dean jogged over to Sam, grabbing his elbow to get his attention. "You go on, Cas and I'll catch up."

Sam looked back at Cas and furrowed his brow. "He okay?"

"Don't know,” Dean said, glancing back at Cas, “but something doesn't feel right."

"Alright, I'll see what else I can get out of Paul."

Sam loped after Paul, and Dean turned his attention to Cas. "Hey buddy," he said, placing a hand on Cas' shoulder. "What’s going on with you?"

Cas dragged his gaze away from the windows and the empty pool behind them. His brow furrowed in confusion, like he wasn’t sure where he was or why Dean was talking to him. Dean stepped directly in front of him, blocking his view of the windows.

“Cas, what’s up with you? You literally look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Dean said. He held Cas’ gaze as the fog dissipated from his eyes, leaving them clear and blue.

“Dean. I—I don’t know what happened. I remember walking into the room with you, and I couldn’t stop looking at the pool. I saw people swimming. There was a girl, and—” Cas hesitated, glancing at the windows then back to Dean, eyes wide with fear. “I saw her drown, Dean. She was real, and she was there. And all I could do was watch her drown.”

“Alright, buddy, calm down,” Dean said, giving Cas’ shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not actually a medium, are you? Or was Jimmy?”

“Not that I’m aware,” Cas said, his eyes sliding back to the windows, “and besides, the only trait my body still shares with Jimmy is its physical appearance.”

“Okay, listen—you stick close to me,” Dean said, ignoring the twisting in his gut and ducking his head to catch Cas’ gaze. “You get that feeling again, like you’re getting sucked into a vision or whatever, you tell me. Grab my arm, signal me, whatever you gotta do to get my attention, okay?“

"Okay, Dean.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here and catch up to Sam,” Dean said, sliding his arm around Cas’ shoulders and guiding him to the exit. As they crossed the threshold to the next room, he glanced back at the windows. A chill shot through him, and his steps faltered as he did a double take.

Smeared across the bottom corner of one of the panes of glass was a single, faint handprint.


	3. Chapter 3

After finishing the tour with no further episodes from Cas, Paul led them to a wing of rooms behind the main building. “It’s not much, but ya’ll are welcome to commandeer a few rooms while you’re here. Save you the time and expense of driving back down the hill and getting a hotel room.”

Paul brought his keyring out and separated three keys, handing them to Sam as they reached the end of the row of rooms. “These rooms still have furniture and bedding. Plumbing and electricity should work in all of ‘em. If you have any trouble, you know where I’ll be. I let the staff know ya’ll have the run of the place tonight. Good huntin’,” Paul said, bringing two fingers to his brow in a lazy salute before walking back the way they’d come.

“Thanks, man,” Sam said, walking to the door of one of the rooms. He found the key that matched the room number, then turned to toss the other two keys to Dean. Dean’s eyes were glued to Cas, his brow creased with worry, as Cas squinted around at the property. They both looked as exhausted as he felt. He gave a short whistle to get Dean’s attention, then tossed him the keys.

Dean caught the keys one-handed and turned his frown on the rooms. “We sure it’s a good idea to stay here? Something don’t feel right.”

“The hotel is haunted, Dean,” Cas said, glancing over his shoulder to raise an eyebrow at Dean, “of course it doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah, thanks Captain Obvious. I mean besides the haunting. You’re acting even weirder than usual, having visions and shit. I’m just not sure it’s a good idea for you to stay here.”

Sam watched the two in silence, fighting to keep the grin off his face. They always bickered like an old married couple, but lately it seemed Dean’s mother hen tendency had intensified and transferred completely onto Cas. Sam was glad not to be his sole focus anymore, but Dean didn’t seem to realize what he was doing or how smothering it could be.

“I’ll be fine, Dean,” Cas said, turning to face him. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to drive someplace else and pay for rooms only to come back here for the majority of the night.”

A muscle in Dean’s jaw twitched as he and Cas had one of their epic staring matches. Sam got the feeling they were having a complete argument without uttering a single word out loud. He was just about to break the awkward silence and say something about needing a shower or some rest when Dean deflated with a sigh.

“Fine, but I’m serious about what I said earlier—you stick close to one of us at all times and if you see anything else, you tell me right away. Got it?”

“Of course, Dean.”

“Alright, well, I’m just going to get settled in,” Sam said, backing towards his room as Cas and Dean continued to glare at each other, “might take a nap, go over some of the articles about this place, see if I can find the name of the second girl who drowned. We got a long night ahead of us.” He had no doubt it was going to be a long night, whether they found the ghost or not. Watching those two dance around their feelings was exhausting.

“I’ll bring Baby around so we can unload our bags,” Dean said, handing the room keys to Cas. “You get some rest too.”

“What about coffee?” Cas grumbled.

“Yes, princess. I’ll go pick up food and coffee too,” Dean called over his shoulder as he walked towards the front parking lot.

Cas glowered after him. If looks could kill, Sam had no doubt his brother would be dead on the ground. Dean was lucky there was no longer any actual power behind Cas’ smite face.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam said as soon as Dean was out of earshot and before Cas disappeared into his room. “I know Dean can be a little overbearing at times—”

Cas snorted. “Understatement.”

“Yeah,” Sam said with a laugh, “well, he only does it because he cares. And he’s a jerk about it because he doesn’t like admitting how much he cares. So just, keep that in mind, alright?”

Cas frowned but nodded. “I will. Thanks, Sam,” he said, then unlocked his door and stepped inside.

Sam sighed and entered his own room. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and set his laptop bag on top of the hideous mauve comforter. At least it wasn’t a floral print. He dropped down next to his bag, causing the bed to wobble and groan in protest. His feet dangled over the end of the mattress when he kicked them up to lay down.

“Lovely,” he grumbled. He propped his phone on his chest and unlocked the screen. Opening up his text conversation with Eileen, he typed out a new message and hit send.

_12:20 p.m._

**Sam:** I don’t know who’s more emotionally constipated - Dean or Cas

 **Sam:** We made it to Brookdale btw

_12:21 p.m._

**Eileen:** do I even want to know what they’re repressing now?

_12:21 p.m._

**Sam:**  Just the usual

 **Sam:** They bickered like an old married couple the entire drive here

 **Sam:** It’s so obvious to anyone with eyes that they’re head over heels for each other

 **Sam:** They’re the only ones still oblivious

_12:22 p.m._

**Eileen:** give them time, they’ll figure it out

 **Eileen:** it took you almost a year to figure out you were in love with me ;)

_12:22 p.m._

**Sam:** Yeah that’s because we had to rely on mostly text messages

 **Sam:** They’ve been dancing around this... whatever this thing is between them

 **Sam:** Staring longingly at each other when the other’s not looking

 **Sam:** Risking life and limb to protect each other

 **Sam:** For almost NINE YEARS

 **Sam:** I’ve been the awkward third wheel in this relationship for close to a decade

 **Sam:** I’m about ready to drive them up to Bobby’s old place and lock them in his iron dungeon until they figure it out

_12:24 p.m._

**Eileen:** you have the patience of a saint dear

_12:24 p.m._

**Sam:** Not for much longer

 **Sam:** How are things in Reno?

_12:25 p.m._

**Eileen:** good, I’m just tying up some loose ends

_12:25 p.m._

**Sam:** Good

 **Sam:** I’m gonna do some research and take a nap

 **Sam:** I’ll text you later. Love you

_12:26 p.m._

**Eileen:** love you too

 

 

Dean pulled the Impala up in front of their rooms and put her in park. He got out and walked around to the passenger side to grab the cardboard drink carrier that held three cups of coffee, two black, one with extra cream and sugar, and a paper bag containing three sandwiches. Popping his head into Sam’s room he saw his giant brother sprawled out and sound asleep, feet dangling off the end of the bed. His laptop was open but forgotten on the bed next to him.

“Damn sasquatch,” he said with a smile. He’d let him sleep a while longer and go check on Cas. The door to the next room was locked, so he continued to the third.

“I have your coffee, your majesty,” he said in a loud, obnoxious voice as he walked in. Seeing Cas wake up with a glare amused him to no end. He couldn’t resist an opportunity to induce one. Even more fun though, was trying to make Cas laugh and watching him struggle not to let the glare turn into a grin.

There was no grumpy, glaring Cas on the bed though, not even a lump under the sheets. “Cas?” Dean called, walking further into the room. He tapped the closed bathroom door with his boot. “You in there?”

Cas didn’t answer, so Dean set the coffee and sandwiches down on the dresser, ignoring the seed of panic threatening to unfurl in his chest. Cas was probably giving him the silent treatment for daring to question his wellbeing earlier. He rapped his knuckles against the bathroom door. “Cas, buddy, come on. I have cream and sugar with a splash of coffee for you, and I got you a club sandwich with extra bacon.”

His entreaty was met with silence.

“Cas, I’m coming in unless you answer me. I don’t care if you’re sitting on the toilet with your pants around your ankles.” Still nothing. Dean turned the handle and pushed the door open to find the bathroom empty.

“What the hell, Cas,” Dean grumbled, stomping out of the room and heading back to pound on the the door of the middle room. “Cas, you in there?”

There was no answer so he jogged around to the other side of the building where the rooms all had patios with large picture windows. He peered through dingy glass, craning to see into the bathroom. There was no sign of Cas there either.

“Shit. Cas?” he called, eyes roaming frantically over the hotel grounds in search of Cas’ broad frame and dark hair as he hurried back to Sam’s door. He cupped his hands and yelled, “Cas!”

Across the parking lot, a blond woman having a cigarette on the bar’s patio watched him warily. He probably looked deranged, but he didn’t care. Cas gave no answer. No mess of dark hair popped out from behind any of the buildings. There was no Cas.

Dean barreled into Sam’s room as he tapped Cas’ name on his phone. “Sam,” he said, slapping one of his brother’s giant feet, “wake up. Cas is gone.”

Sam jumped and threw his hands up in a defensive gesture before his eyes cleared. As soon as he realized it was Dean, he relaxed and pulled himself up to sitting. “What?” he grumbled, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Cas. He’s gone, Sam. Did he say anything to you? Tell you he was going anywhere?” Dean paced the room, listening to his phone ring and keeping watch out the window as he waited for the questions to sink into his brother’s sleep addled brain. Cas’ voicemail picked up. Dean hit end, then called him again.

“What? No,” Sam said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He ran his fingers through his hair, straightening it.

Dean clenched his free hand to keep from grabbing Sam and shaking him. They had to find Cas before he got hurt, or got sucked into another vision of some dead girl drowning. Cas’ phone went to voicemail again and Dean ended the call. He typed out a quick text message asking Cas where he was and telling him to call asap, then shoved the phone in his pocket.

“He’s not in either of the other rooms and he’s not answering his phone. We need to go find him.”

“Alright, yeah,” Sam said, slipping his feet into his shoes, “he probably just went for a walk or something, and phone service is spotty up here. We’ll find him, Dean. Don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry,” Dean said with a humorless laugh. “The guy was having visions. This place is messing with his head. I knew it was a bad idea to stay here.”

“Dean,” Sam said, grabbing Dean’s shoulder and forcing him to stop pacing, “we’ll find him. Let’s go.”


	4. Chapter 4

Dean stalked across the parking lot towards the main building and pushed through the door leading into the bar from the patio. There was a band setting up on the stage and Dean had to restrain himself from outright shoving a guy carrying an amplifier who got in his way.

“What the hell, man!” the guy yelled. Dean ignored him and continued on his path to the Mermaid Room.

“Sorry,” Sam said from behind him.

As he passed under the archway into the Mermaid Room, Dean thought he heard Sam asking the band if they’d seen a dark-haired, blue-eyed guy in a Zeppelin t-shirt. That was probably the smart thing to do, but Dean didn’t have the patience to stand around asking questions. He had to move. He had to find Cas before something bad happened.

Dean searched the room, but didn’t see Cas anywhere. He sucked in a deep breath to steady himself before walking towards the window. There was no creepy handprint this time. He peered through the dingy glass and saw nothing but an empty pool. His breath left him all at once in a relieved rush. Cas wasn’t in the pool.

Sam came through the archway as Dean peered up through the window, trying to get a glimpse of the pool’s upper edge.

“The band hasn’t seen him,” Sam said, walking over to Dean and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Doesn’t look like he’s in here either. Think he’s in the pool room somewhere?”

“Can’t see much from here. I’m gonna head up there, take a look around,” Dean said, turning to face Sam and shrugging his hand off his shoulder. “I’ll check the Brookroom too since it’s on the way. You go check out front. I’ll meet you back here.”

Dean started to walk past Sam and back towards the stage room where there was an entrance to the Brookroom, but Sam snaked a hand out and grabbed his arm.

“Whoa, Dean, hold on a second.”

“What, Sam?” he said, forcing the words out between clenched teeth.

“Look, I know you’re worried, and I want to find Cas too,” Sam said, giving Dean one of his earnest puppy dog looks, “but I think it’s best if we stick together. You’re obviously upset, and we don’t know what’s going on here yet.”

Dean took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of musty wood and years of spilled alcohol. “Fine, let’s go,” he said, pulling out of Sam’s grip. He didn’t wait to see if Sam was following him.

The band gave him dirty looks as he passed through the stage room again. He glowered at them with his hands fisted at his sides, silently daring them to say something. Taking his anxiety out on one of their faces didn’t sound like a bad idea. He probably would if he wasn’t on a mission to find Cas.

Leaving the band behind, he passed through the doorway that lead from the stage room to the Brookroom. Grey sunlight filtered through the dingy skylights. It reflected off the creek that flowed through the center of the room, making the water glitter as it splashed off the rocks. The rushing, bubbling sound of the creek should have been calming, but Dean barely noticed it. He searched the room from their vantage point on the middle of three levels of terraces bordering the creek. There was no sign of Cas anywhere.

“Cas!” he called, voice carrying easily in the cavernous space. “Castiel!”

The sound of water flowing over rocks on its rush to return to the outdoors was his only answer. Dean’s heart sank. His eyes darted around the room, overwhelmed by the myriad green stairways scattered around. They all looked the same and he couldn’t pick out which one they’d taken to get to the pool room on their tour earlier that day. He found himself floundering with no idea which direction to go.

“This way, Dean,” Sam said softly, brushing past him.

Dean followed, scowling but secretly glad Sam had insisted on them sticking together. After taking several meandering stairways, they finally made it to the upper level.

“This place is a goddamn maze,” Dean grumbled, following Sam through the doorway to the pool room.

The half of the room that wasn’t taken up by the large kidney shaped pool contained small mountains of mattresses, chairs, dressers, and decor from the guest rooms. It was apparently being used as a storage space while the rooms underwent renovation. Sam weaved a path between the stacks and piles of furnishings. Dean followed, his guts churning as they got closer to the pool.

“Cas, you in here?” he yelled. There was no answer but the echoing of his own voice.

“I don’t see him, Dean,” Sam said as he cleared the stacks of furnishings.

“Fuck,” Dean said, “where the hell is he?”

He brushed past Sam, walking right up to the edge of the empty pool and peering down. He traced the outer curve of the pool with his steps until he could see the entire bottom. There was nothing but smooth, white concrete. Relief fought with panic in his chest. He hadn’t wanted to find Cas here of all places, but not being here meant he could be anywhere.

“Come on,” Sam said, “let's head out front, check if Paul has seen him. We’ll ask him to keep an eye out if he hasn’t.”

“Yeah,” Dean answered in a daze, “that’s probably a good idea.”

“Of course it’s a good idea, I’m the smart one,” Sam said, trying for levity.

Dean glared, but before he could come up with a retort the sound of Cas’ ringtone blared from his pocket. Dean pulled his phone out, tapping the answer key probably more aggressively than necessary.

“Cas? Where the hell are you?” he growled into the phone.

_“I’m in my room. Where are you and Sam? Is everything okay?”_

“Everything’s fuckin’ peachy, Cas,” Dean said, sarcasm dripping from his words. “We’ve just spent the last half hour searching the entire fucking property for you. Where were you?”

_“I went to speak with Paul.”_

“Jesus, Cas, you can’t just wander off without telling anyone like that!” Dean shouted.

_“Dean, I am not a child. I’m a warrior of God, and I’ve taken care of myself for countless millennia. I think I can handle walking across a parking lot by myself.”_

“No, you fucking can’t, Cas. You’re not—what if you had—” Dean stopped, running his free hand through his hair and taking a deep breath before continuing in a calmer voice. “Look, just stay there. We’re on our way back.”

He ended the call and found Sam staring at him, one eyebrow quirked and obviously holding back a grin. “What?” he growled.

Sam laughed and shook his head, “Kashmir? That’s your ringtone for Cas?”

“It’s his favorite Zeppelin song,” Dean growled, shoving his phone in his pocket as he walked past Sam. “Come on.”

 

 

“Dude,” Sam said, throwing an arm in front of Dean to stop him at the doorway to Cas’ room, “go easy on him. I know from experience your mother hen routine can get a little oppressive. And you know he's capable of taking care of himself, powered up or not.”

Dean glared, but his expression gradually softened and his eyes dropped to his feet. He nodded once, then entered the room.

Sam hung back in the doorway, giving them space but staying nearby in case he was needed. Cas was leaning against the dresser, holding what looked like half of a club sandwich in one hand. Sam’s stomach growled and he made a mental note to find out where that sandwich came from as soon as possible. Cas glared daggers at Dean, but his mouth was full, which was probably a good thing. From the stormy look on his face, Sam was sure he would have verbally eviscerated Dean otherwise.

“Cas, I—” Dean started, shoulders stiff, then he took a breath and seemed to completely deflate. “Shit. You dumb son of a bitch.”

Sam grinned as Dean stepped forward to pull Cas into a hug. Cas blinked, and his brows furrowed as he swallowed the bite he’d been angrily chewing. If he wasn’t currently being held immobile in the vise grip of Dean’s arms, Sam was sure he’d be doing his signature head tilt. After a moment, his eyes softened and he buried his face in the crook of Dean’s shoulder, gripping the fabric of Dean’s jacket with his free hand.

Dean must have said something else that only the two of them could hear, or maybe Cas had just melted from being in Dean’s proximity. Sam pulled out his phone and snapped a picture from the doorway, then opened a message to Eileen and attached the photo as he walked back to his own room.

_2:04 p.m._

**Sam:** Cas went out and Dean had a full on meltdown when he couldn't find him. Now they're hugging it out

 **Sam:** Progress

Sam pushed the door to his room open, letting it swing shut behind him. He sat on the bed gingerly—not wanting it to collapse underneath him—and kicked his feet up, reclining against the headboard. His phone dinged with a new message.

_2:05 p.m._

**Eileen:** they're adorable

Sam rolled his eyes and tapped out a reply.

_2:05 p.m._

**Sam:** Yeah, so adorable I might just murder them both in their sleep if this ghost doesn't get to them first

_2:15 p.m._

**Eileen:** I’m done in Reno, want me to join you?

_2:15 p.m._

**Sam:** GOD YES

 **Sam:** PLEASE SAVE ME

_2:17 p.m._

**Eileen:** bonus - when the case is wrapped you can ride with me and Dean and Cas get some

quality one on one time on the long drive home

 **Eileen:** and I won’t have to come up with bail money for you

_2:18 p.m._

**Sam:** You’re my hero

 **Sam:** Please hurry

2:18 p.m.

 **Eileen:** hold tight, your heroine is readying her steed to come to your rescue

_2:19 p.m._

**Sam:** Have I told you that I love you?

_2:20 p.m._

**Eileen:** only every time we talk

 **Eileen:** see you in about 5 hours

 **Eileen:** love you

Sam stood and turned his phone’s screen off then slid it into his pocket. He’d killed a good fifteen minutes and the growling of his stomach had only gotten louder, so he made his way back to Cas’ room. Hopefully they were done making up and hadn’t started bickering again.

“Hey guys,” he said, peeking in the doorway, “everything okay?”

Cas was sitting on the edge of the bed, sipping coffee from a paper cup, and Dean was now leaning against the dresser, stuffing his face with a sandwich of his own.

“We’re good,” Dean said through a mouthful of bread and meat.

“Great. There better be another one of those for me, jerk.”

“Nope, we ate ‘em all, bitch.”

“Very funny,” Sam said, reaching around Dean for the last sandwich.

“There’s coffee as well,” Cas said, gesturing with his cup, “although it’s cold now.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have gotten cold if someone had been here when I brought it,” Dean grumbled, shoving another bite in his mouth.

“Dean, I—” Cas started.

“Hey, so Eileen’s driving out here after she finishes up in Reno,” Sam interrupted, determined to keep the bickering at a minimum until Eileen could get there. “She’ll be here tonight.”

“What?” Dean said through another mouthful. Sam was grateful that he swallowed before continuing. “Why’s she coming out here?”

“Does she need a reason besides wanting to see Sam?” Cas said. He ignored Dean’s pointed look and smiled at Sam. “It will be good to see her. Is she staying the night?”

“Yeah. I don’t think either of us could handle another long drive without a good night’s sleep,” Sam said between bites.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘either of us’?” Dean asked, frowning at Sam. “Are you leaving with her?”

“Yeah, Dean, I haven’t seen her for weeks. We’ll stick around for a day or two, back you up on the case, but then we’re taking off and you guys are on your own for the drive home.”

“Dude, you’re gonna bail on us?” Dean scoffed.

“Dean, it’s important for Sam to spend quality time with his significant other,” Cas said, eyes dropping to his coffee.

“Exactly,” Sam said, “thank you, Cas.”

“Alright, alright,” Dean said, “whatever, go ahead, ditch us for a girl.” He was going for disgruntled, but Sam could see the humor in his eyes. Dean stuffed the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth and crumbled up the wrapper, tossing it in the wastebin. “You should take her to that bigfoot museum on your way out. Introduce her to your long-lost biological family.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, there’s a Mystery Spot just a few miles from here. Maybe you should stop by there on your way out of town.”

“Not funny, Sam.”

Sam pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows at Dean.

“Okay, fine, no more sasquatch jokes,” Dean grumbled. “So what’s our plan of attack for today?”

“I’m going to pay the sheriff a visit, check out their records and the coroner’s report, see what other info I can get,” Sam said.

“When I was with Paul he called the lodge’s owner and got the name of the girl who drowned here in the 70s. He wasn’t sure, but thought it might be Vivien Dulac,” Cas said. “Maybe the sheriff would have some kind of record of her death.”

“Yeah, I’ll check,” Sam said, finishing up the last of his sandwich and throwing the wrapper away.

“Alright, Cas and me will check out the bar,” Dean said, digging the keys to the Impala out of his pocket and tossing them to Sam, “see what we can find out from the locals.”


	5. Chapter 5

Dean resolutely ignored the fluttering in his stomach as he and Cas walked across the parking lot in silence. Sure, he and Cas would be spending the next couple hours at a bar without Sam there to interrupt or distract them, but it was strictly for the case. This wasn’t two friends going out for the fun of it, and it definitely wasn’t a date. It was a job, and he would be professional. Cas wouldn’t welcome Dean trying to cozy up to him anyway, not after the protective alpha male bullshit Dean had pulled earlier.

Pulling the door open with jittery fingers, he held it for Cas and followed him into the dimly lit stage room. The space had filled with people since he’d stormed in on his quest to find Cas earlier. One of the roadies walked by with a guitar, looking Cas up and down as he passed. Dean scowled at him and guided Cas through the rest of the crowd, steering him with a hand placed low on his back. When Dean’s pinky caught on the waistband of Cas’ jeans through his layers of shirts, Dean jerked his hand away and shoved it in his pocket.

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” Dean said, clearing his throat, “I’m gonna go grab us a couple of drinks, see what I can get out of the bartender before she gets too busy. You make nice with the natives, find out what they know.”

“I don’t know how successful I will be in that capacity, Dean,” Cas said, arching an eyebrow.

“You’ll do fine,” Dean said, clapping him on the shoulder, “just think of it as a chance to practice your ‘people skills’.”

Cas did not look amused at Dean’s use of actual finger quotes. Dean chuckled at the disgruntled look on his face and made his way to the bar. Sliding onto a barstool, he turned to throw a thumbs up at Cas who was still standing where Dean had left him, looking around the room awkwardly.

“Hi there, what can I get ya?” said a perky voice from the other side of the bar, drawing Dean’s attention. He laughed self-consciously when he saw that the voice belonged to the blonde who’d been outside earlier, watching him run around looking for Cas. The name ‘Raelynn’ was stitched in white on her snug black polo shirt.

“Hey, you’re one of the ghost people, right?” she said, a smile creeping onto her face. “Did you find your friend?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s him,” Dean said, glancing behind him and nodding towards Cas, who now stood talking with the sleazy roady who’d been ogling him when they walked in.

“I’m glad you found him,” Raelynn said, “you seemed pretty worried.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean said, dragging his eyes away, “the guy’s like a slightly less maladjusted version of Rain Man. Never know where he’ll end up if he takes off on his own.”

“You’re a good friend to look out for him.”

“Well, he’s the best friend I’ve ever had, so you know,” Dean trailed off, running a hand over his jaw to conceal the blush he felt creeping over his cheeks. “Anyway, uh, Raelynn is it?” She nodded. “Can I get two Sierra Nevadas?”

“You got it,” she said, stepping away to grab two pint glasses.

While Raelynn poured the beers, Dean leaned an elbow on the bar and watched Cas. He was still talking with the roadie: a tall, well-muscled guy with shoulder length, shaggy blonde hair that he probably thought made him look like a surfer. To complete the look, he wore a faded blue flannel over a well-worn band shirt and faded jeans riddled with holes. His name was probably Bodhi or something, though this douche could never hope to be even half as awesome as Swayze.

Dean rolled his eyes and snickered. He was about to turn back to the bar when the guy leaned into Cas’ space and whispered something in his ear. Cas’ face lit up with one of his goofy half grins as he glanced down then back up at the guy through his lashes. Dean could see pink flood over Cas’ cheeks from all the way across the room.

That wannabe surfer scumbag was hitting on Cas. And Cas looked like he was into it. Dean’s grip tightened on the edge of the bar, and his stomach twisted into knots.

“Here ya go,” Raelynn said, setting two pints of beer on the bar and snapping Dean out of the red haze that had started filming over his vision. Dean shook himself and turned back to the bar. Cas was a free man, he could flirt with whoever he wanted.

“Thanks, darlin’,” Dean said with a wink, slipping back into his default lady killer persona like a comfy worn in pair of jeans. “Hey, do you have a minute?”

“For you?” she asked, a slow grin spreading over her face, “I got several. But seein’ as I’m still on the clock we might have to wait... depending on what you wanted to do with ‘em.”

Dean laughed. “Well, maybe when you’re off the clock we can discuss more,” he said, though he found he didn’t really mean it. “But for now, I was hoping you could tell me about Kurt, the guy who died a few weeks ago. Heard he was a regular here.”

“Oh,” she said, her face dropping, “yeah. What about him?”

“Did he have any enemies? Anyone who would want to hurt him?”

“None that I know of,” she said, wiping the bar down with a towel. “He was a nice enough guy, but he always seemed a little removed, like he didn’t quite fit in with people. Kept to himself mostly.”

“So he was a loner?”

“Not really, I think he liked being around people. He just didn’t quite know how to relate to them. Seemed pretty lonely most of the time. I think he hung out here so he could be surrounded by people without the pressure of fitting in. You know how it is, places like this—once people’ve had a few drinks, everyone’s part of the gang. Kurt didn’t even drink. I used to serve him soda water with lime. I think he just liked feeling like he belonged somewhere, you know?”

“Yeah, makes sense,” Dean mumbled, glancing back at Cas. The band had started playing and the roadie was gone. Muscles that Dean hadn’t even realized he’d been clenching released and the knot in his stomach unwound. Cas was sitting at a table, smiling awkwardly as some girl that was way too young for him and had obviously had a few drinks, talked his ear off.

“He have any family?” he asked, turning back to Raelynn.

“As far as I know the guy lived alone and was estranged from his family.”

“Huh, poor guy,” Dean said, sipping his beer. “So were you here the night he died?”

“Yeah, I was working,” Raelynn said, grabbing a clean towel and drying a freshly washed glass.

“What happened?”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” she said, sighing and setting the dry glass down. “He seemed a little quieter than usual, distracted. I was making change for another customer, and when I turned around he was gone. Left some cash on the bar for his tab. I figured he went home.”

“Hmm,” Dean said, “he didn’t say anything strange?”

“No, like I said, he kept to himself. Didn’t do much talking,” she said, then looked down the bar when someone called her name. “I’m sorry, I gotta see to the other customers.”

“No problem,” Dean said, smiling as he pulled some bills out of his wallet and slapped them on the bar. “Thanks for the conversation.”

Picking up the two pints of beer, Dean made his way across the room to Cas. Cas stood when he spotted Dean and grabbed one of the beers. “Thanks, honey,” he said, avoiding eye contact as he leaned in to kiss Dean on the cheek.

“Uh, wha—” Dean stuttered, gaping at Cas as he pulled away. Heat swept across his face, leaving him a little short of breath. Cas flicked his eyes at the girl who’d been talking to him. Of course. Cas just needed an excuse to get rid of the girl.

“Uh, you’re welcome.” Dean swallowed his disappointment with a sip of his beer. “So, uh, gonna introduce me to your new friend... sweetheart?”

“Oh, yes,” Cas said, turning back to the girl. “This is—I’m sorry, I forgot your name...”

“Elizabeth,” she said, standing and wobbling a bit before reaching out to shake Dean’s hand.

“Elizabeth,” Cas said, snaking an arm around Dean’s waist, “this is my boyfriend, Dean.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth said, her eyes widening, “I—uh, well it’s nice to meet you Dean. You’ve got quite the catch here. Cas, it was nice talking to you. I’m just gonna—go, find my friends.”

As soon as she was gone Cas dropped his arm and sat down at the table. Dean put on a smirk to cover up his unhappiness at the loss of Cas’ proximity, and sat, leaving a good amount of space between them.

“Boyfriend, huh?” he said, hoping Cas didn’t notice the slight tremor in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said, staring into his beer, “I think she was trying to pick me up for sex, but I wasn’t interested and she wouldn’t leave.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “Not your type huh?”

“No,” Cas answered, picking up his glass and gulping his beer. He set the glass down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking anywhere but at Dean. “So did the bartender have anything useful?”

“Not really,” Dean said. “The guy was kind of an outcast, came here to be around people without having to interact too much. No family, no enemies, and nobody saw him after he left the bar until he was found the next morning.”

“Well, that’s helpful,” Cas said.

“Yeah, super helpful,” Dean said. He drummed his fingers on the table and watched the crowd. Cas lapsed into silence, sipping his beer.

“So,” Dean said, hoping his next words came out sounding nonchalant, “did you learn anything from the roadie?”

“Roadie?” Cas asked, his brows drawing together as he looked at Dean.

“Yeah, guy with the flannel, in desperate need of a haircut...”

“Oh, you mean Brodie,” Cas said.

Dean snorted. “Brodie? Really?”

“Yes, that’s his name,” Cas said, scrunching his brow.

“Wow, I totally called it,” Dean said.

“Called... what? Exactly?”

“Dude’s name. He looks like a cheesy knock off of Swayze’s character Bodhi in Point Break,” Dean said, laughing and taking a sip of beer.

“Okay,” Cas said, still regarding Dean with a furrowed brow.

“We have a movie to watch when we get back to the bunker,” Dean said. “So, you get anything from Brodie the roadie?”

“No,” Cas said. A small smile raised a corner of his mouth as he glanced towards the stage room. “Nothing pertinent to the case anyway.”

Dean followed Cas’ gaze and saw Brodie at the back of the room, beer in hand. His stomach clenched.

“What’s that mean?” Dean asked, hoping his tone came across light and playful, not overprotective or overbearing.

“He gave me his phone number,” Cas said, taking another drink of his beer and avoiding Dean’s gaze.

“His—what? He gave you his phone number?” Dean sputtered, setting his glass down hard enough to splash beer onto the table.

“He did. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Well, no, but—Cas you gotta be careful. Guys like that only want one thing. He just wants to take advantage of you, and then you’ll never hear from him again.”

“Oh, you mean like you do to various women you meet on the road?” Cas said, raising an eyebrow at Dean and sipping his beer.

“What? No, that’s totally different.”

“How?”

“What do you mean how?”

“I mean, how is it different for you to get a woman’s phone number, meet her somewhere for sex, and then take off the next day never to see her again?”

“Well, it’s just different Cas, it’s totally consensual and everyone knows what they’re getting into. We both get something out of it, and I never make any promises about sticking around...”

“So why can’t I do the same thing with Brodie? If we’re attracted to each other and we both consent to sex, how is that him taking advantage?”

“It—it just is, Cas! You’re totally new to this whole human thing, and relationships. What if you get attached and this guy ends up hurting you?”

“Well, that’s my risk to take,” Cas said, looking away. He continued under his breath, mumbling, “and it’s not like I’ve never been attached to a human and gotten hurt before.”

“What?” Dean asked, turning towards Cas. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nevermind,” Cas said. He wouldn’t look at Dean, keeping his gaze glued to whatever was so interesting on the other side of the room.

“You know what? Fine,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “Do what you want, Cas.” They sipped their beers in charged silence, refusing to look at each other until Dean couldn’t handle it anymore. He downed the rest of his beer and got up, mumbling, “I need another drink.”

 

 

An hour and several shots of whiskey later, Dean sat alone, brooding over his second beer. Details in the room had become foggy, and the sound of people yelling and laughing over the band melded together to wash over him in indistinct waves. Cas had stormed off when Dean settled in at the bar. He now stood at the back of the room talking with Brodie. Dean couldn’t help sneaking the occasional glance in their direction. The two kept leaning into each other, laughing and talking. Cas was obviously into the guy if the way he kept blushing and touching the guy’s arm said anything. 

Dean looked away, sipping his beer and scanning the room. He contemplated flirting with Raelynn some more. Maybe he’d take her up on her offer of talking more after her shift. He knew he wouldn’t though. He was tired, and he just wanted to grab Cas and drag him back to their room. _Rooms_ , he mentally corrected himself. He couldn’t though. He had no claim on Cas, and if the dumbass wanted to hook up with some random dude from a bar, that was his prerogative.

The band finished their song and the lead singer dedicated their next song to “all those lonely souls pining for someone out in the crowd.” Dean rolled his eyes, downing the rest of his beer as the keyboardist started the opening bars of their next song and the singer began to sing.

_“I can’t fight this feeling any longer, and yet I’m still afraid to let it flow, what started out as friendship has grown stronger, I only wish I had the strength to let it show...”_

Dean groaned as he turned back to the bar and set his empty glass down. Raelynn appeared in front of him.

“Hey, ‘nother beer for you?”

“Make it another whiskey, darlin’,” he said, trying to smile.

Raelynn took his empty beer glass and watched him for a moment. “You sure?”

“Definitely,” he said.

She turned away to grab a bottle, then came back to set a clean glass in front of Dean, filling it with the amber liquid. Dean picked it up and downed it, then tapped the glass on the bar.

“Why don’t you fill her up again,” he said.

She did, but not without raising an eyebrow. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“Sure...” she said, “this wouldn’t have anything to do with your friend ditching you to talk with that cute blonde, would it?”

“‘Course not, guy can talk to whoever he wants to.”

“Well, sure, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t gonna be upset if he does.”

“Why would I be upset? He’s my best friend, and he wants to get laid, and that jackass wants to get laid... they can do what they want,” Dean said, slumping over to hold his head up with an elbow on the bar.

“I don’t know,” Raelynn said, hesitating, “just seems like maybe you’d rather be in that jackass’ place.”

“What?” Dean scoffed. “No.”

“Alright, well I don’t know your situation and I don’t want to pry,” she said, folding her bar towel, “but the way you two were looking at each other earlier... I mean, I’ve seen married couples who don’t look at each other that way.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing at all, hun. Just...” she trailed off with a sigh before continuing. “I know what it feels like to regret not taking a chance on something that could’ve been a really good thing.”

Dean grunted and pushed his shot glass over for a refill. “We’re just friends.”

“Okay,” she said, filling the glass. “Well, your ‘friend’ is making his way over here without blondie.”

Dean looked over his shoulder to see Cas walking over, and turned back to stare at the glass in his hand.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean suppressed the shiver that ran down his spine at the sound of his name in that gravelly voice.

“Hey, Cas,” he said. Cas slid onto the bar stool next to him.

“Can I have whatever he’s having?” he asked Raelynn.

“Sure,” she said, setting a clean glass on the bar and filling it with a finger of whiskey.

Cas picked up the glass and swallowed it in one go. Dean couldn’t help but track the way Cas’ throat bobbed out of the corner of his eye.

“Get bored with your new friend already?” Dean said, swirling the whiskey in his glass before tossing it back.

“He’s not really my type,” Cas said.

“Oh yeah? What is your type then?” Dean asked, trying to keep up his veneer of nonchalance.

“I would have thought that was fairly obvious by now,” Cas said. Before Dean could process that, or ask what the hell it was supposed to mean, Cas had slipped off his barstool and slapped him on the shoulder. “Sam called. Let’s go.”

“Sam called you and not me?”

“He did. Said you weren’t answering.”

“Oh, Dean said, pulling his phone out of his pocket to see a missed call and a text from Sam.

“He got the name of the witness, but the sheriff didn’t have anything more helpful, and the body’s been cremated already.”

“Of course,” Dean grumbled.

“But Eileen’s here, and she brought burgers.”

Dean’s mouth started to water. A nice, greasy burger sounded like just the thing he needed right now. Maybe it would soak up some of the alcohol in his system and help stop his head from swimming, although he wasn’t entirely sure the way he was feeling could be blamed completely on the alcohol. He stood and dug a few bills out of his wallet.

“There better be bacon on mine,” he said, slapping the money on the bar and waving at Raelynn before following Cas out of the bar.


	6. Chapter 6

“Goddamn that was a good burger,” Dean said, stretching out on Cas’ bed and rubbing his belly. The food had helped to clear his head, leaving him feeling a warm, comfortable buzz.

After they’d all finished eating, Eileen had shooed him and Cas out of Sam’s room and Dean had followed Cas to his room at the end of the wing. Dealing with the awkwardness between them was marginally better than going back to his own room and hearing Sam and Eileen enjoying their quality couple time through the thin walls.

“Indeed,” Cas said, stretching out on the mattress next to Dean, “and it was quite thoughtful of Eileen to have bacon added to ours.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty awesome,” Dean said with a smile. He had to admit Eileen was pretty perfect for Sam. She had a way of indulging his need for healthy foods—bringing veggie burgers for her and Sam tonight—while humoring Dean’s need for completely unhealthy things and convincing Sam it was okay once in awhile.

“Why do you tease him about her so often then?” Cas asked.

Dean flopped his head to the side and found Cas watching him, blue eyes half lidded. He stared for a moment before tearing his gaze away and focusing on the ceiling. “It’s my job as his big brother. I gotta give him shit.”

“That doesn’t seem like a very brotherly thing to do,” Cas said.

“Trust me, Cas, it is very much a brotherly thing to do. Didn’t any of your brothers tease you?”

Dean risked glancing back at Cas, relieved to see Cas was now staring at the ceiling. Dean took the opportunity to let his gaze roam over Cas’ profile, taking in the curl of dark hair that hung out of place over his forehead, the perfectly straight line of his nose, the way the curve of his bottom lip gradually gave way to his chin, which led to the strong line of his jaw. He wanted to bite right at the juncture where Cas’ jaw met his neck. He could almost taste the salty sweet flavor of Cas’ skin, could almost feel Cas’ stubble against his lips.

“Dean?”

“Hmm? What?” Dean said, coming out of his reverie to find Cas’ eyes pinning him again.

“Are you okay? You seemed unaware of your surroundings for a moment. You’re not experiencing visions, are you?”

“What? No,” Dean said, laughing and sitting up. His face was warm and his jeans had grown uncomfortably tight. These goddamn urges were going to be the death of him. “Sorry, guess I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Perhaps we should call it a night then.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Dean said, scrubbing his face and running his hands through his hair. He stood and walked to the door, ready to escape back to his own room. He’d just have to put his headphones on and deal with whatever noises came from Sam and Eileen’s room. Better that than stay here and do something stupid.

“Dean, wait—”

Dean stopped with his hand on the doorknob and turned back to look at Cas. He sat upright, staring down at the comforter.

“What’s up, Cas?”

“Um, I just—well, I’m a little uncomfortable staying by myself tonight,” Cas said, eyes flicking up to Dean and back down. His cheeks were flushed. “What if this thing starts affecting me tonight, and I end up walking back to the water while everyone’s asleep?”

“Uh,” Dean said, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Would you stay here, please?” Cas asked, and no matter how uncomfortable Dean felt, or how worried he was about controlling himself with Cas in the same room as him he couldn’t say no when he saw the worry in Cas’ eyes.

“Yeah, Cas, of course,” he said. “I’m just gonna go grab my clothes. Be right back.”

The small, grateful smile spreading across Cas’ face set the butterflies in Dean’s stomach off again.

“Shit,” Dean mumbled under his breath as soon as he pulled Cas’ door shut behind him. Cas wanted him to stay. In his room. While he slept. After Dean had gotten lost in a daydream about biting his goddamn neck while he was talking. This was going to be a long night.

 

 

Cas quickly changed into a pair of sweats and removed his flannel. He paused, fingering the bottom edge of his t-shirt while he debated whether he should take it off or not. He didn’t want to make Dean uncomfortable... well, maybe he did a little bit. That was the least Dean deserved for being such an ass all day.

If Cas were sleeping alone he’d definitely take the shirt off, and he wouldn’t have bothered with the pants either. He preferred sleeping nude or with just boxers, but that would definitely be pushing things too far. He didn’t want to drive Dean away.

“What the hell,” he said to himself. He pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor on his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He wanted to be comfortable while he slept, and if it made Dean squirm or blush that pretty pink color under his freckles, all the better. And if his suspicions were correct, and god he hoped they were correct, Dean would definitely appreciate the sight whether he did anything about it or not.

Flirting with Brodie at the bar earlier had definitely given him some insight. Dean hadn’t liked it, that much had been obvious. Cas felt slightly guilty for flirting in front of Dean, but he was tired of dancing around whatever this thing was between them. And if Dean wasn’t going to acknowledge it, he had no right to get upset at Cas for seeking out other partners.

The sound of the door opening pulled Cas out of his reverie. He leaned out of the bathroom to see Dean step inside. Dean looked up as he pushed the door closed, then froze, except for his eyes which were currently scanning Cas’ torso. Cas smirked around his toothbrush and ducked back into the bathroom to finish his teeth. Going shirtless had been a good idea.

When Cas emerged from the bathroom, he found Dean sitting in the room’s only chair, pulling his boots off. He’d changed into sweats and a t-shirt already, and he must have put the boots back on just for the short walk over from his room.

“Thanks for staying with me, Dean,” Cas said, stopping next to the bed to pull the covers down.

“Uh, sure,” Dean said, keeping his eyes on his feet as he pulled his second boot off, “no problem.”

“And I want to apologize, for earlier,” Cas said, climbing under the covers and propping himself up on one elbow.

“Oh, uh, don’t worry about it Cas,” Dean said, staring at his shoes as he moved them to the side of the chair. “I’m the one who should apologize. You’re a grown ass man, ex-angel, whatever, and you can make your own decisions and sleep with whoever you want.” He glanced at Cas and gave him a tight-lipped smile, then stood and walked to the closet.

Dean pulled an extra blanket out of the closet and avoided looking anywhere close to the bed as he walked to the door and flicked the light switch off. The room went dark, but Cas heard Dean shake out the blanket and settle back into the chair. The bed shook as Dean settled his feet on to the end of the mattress.

“‘Night, Cas,” Dean said in the dark.

Cas sighed. “Goodnight, Dean,” he said, turning over and closing his eyes.

 

 

Dean willed himself to sleep, but no matter what position he tried he could not get comfortable in the chair. The stupid thing was not meant to be slept in. But he had no other options unless he wanted to sleep on the floor. Which was starting to seem tempting at this point. He twisted to the side, uncrossing and recrossing his legs at the ankles where they laid on the foot of the bed—with plenty of space between his feet and Cas’—and tried to find a comfortable position to prop his head against the back of the chair.

He was fine for a few minutes, but the awkward angle made his neck cramp and he had to move again, shifting back to a straighter position. His head fell forward now, compressing his throat and making it difficult to breathe. He tried to ignore it and go to sleep.

“Dean,” Cas growled in the dark, “get over here.”

“Huh?”

“I said get over here. Neither of us is going to get any sleep with you fidgeting in that chair all night. This bed is big enough for both of us, so just get over here.”

“I’m fine, Cas,” Dean said, shifting slightly to the side. There was no way he was going to get into bed with Cas. He’d move to the floor first.

“Dean.”

“What?”

“I’m not asking. Move to the bed so we can both get some sleep.”

“Dude, I’m fine. I’ll just move to the floor,” Dean said, sitting up and pulling the blanket to lay it out on the floor.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cas grumbled. “Your back can’t handle sleeping on a hard floor all night.”

“I’ll be fine, done it hundreds of times before.”

Dean tossed his pillow onto the floor and laid down on half of the blanket, pulling the extra around his shoulders. The floor bit into his shoulder and his hip, but it wasn’t so bad. He’d fall asleep soon enough and not even notice it.

Cas sighed from somewhere above him in the dark, and the mattress squeaked. Footsteps rounded the bed, and then his blanket was yanked away from him.

“Hey!” Dean yelped as he was rolled over and dumped onto the bare carpet. “What the hell, Cas?”

“You are so fucking stubborn,” Cas growled. Dean’s brain did a record scratch. Cas almost never cussed.

Before Dean could even process that, let alone process the twinge of heat that shot through his core, Cas had grabbed his wrist, pulling him up.

“What are you doing, man?” Dean asked, scrambling to stand without losing his balance. He reached out to grasp onto something, anything, to keep from falling on his ass and sucked in a shocked breath when his fingers slid across the warm, bare skin of Cas’ hip. As soon as Dean was on his feet, Cas pushed against his chest, backing him up. The back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he crumpled, sitting down abruptly. The mattress groaned and shuddered at his sudden weight landing on it.

“Cas, stop! What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m putting you to bed, like a child, since you insist on acting like one.”

“What? How am I acting like a—oof.” Cas pushed against his chest again, knocking him flat on his back. Dean tried to sit back up, but Cas grabbed his ankles and lifted them, depositing his legs on the bed and flinging the blankets over him.

“Stay,” Cas growled.

“Dude, you can’t just push me around like that,” Dean barked, “the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong with me,” Cas said, crawling over Dean, “except that I’m exhausted and grumpy and you are an insufferable mule. Now go to sleep.”

Dean held his breath for the duration of that statement as Cas straddled his legs and flung himself down on the mattress next to him.

“And don’t even think about getting up after I’ve fallen asleep.”

“Or what?” Dean asked petulantly. He crossed his arms over his chest and seriously contemplated getting up.

“Dean Winchester,” Cas grumbled into his pillow, “I may not have my full ‘angel mojo’ as you would say, and so I cannot smite you or throw your ass back into hell, but I will tie you to this bed if I have to, so please, just go to sleep.”

“Jeez, don’t gotta get all pissy,” Dean said, though the thought of Cas tying him up set off the butterflies in his stomach.

“Apparently I do.”

“Whatever.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, asshole,” Dean said, grinning despite himself. Cas really was adorable when he was grumpy. And holy shit was he hot when he got all pushy and dominant. Dean refused to think about that any more than necessary. He could have sworn he heard Cas huff a quiet laugh before he pulled the covers up and settled under them. Dean rolled over and fell asleep to the sound of Cas’ deep, slow breaths, a grin plastered on his face.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Sam emerged from the hotel room freshly showered and dressed in a dark suit, leaving Eileen to finish her hair and makeup while he went to check in with Dean. He knocked on the door to Dean’s room, belatedly realizing Dean had probably been able to hear quite a bit through their adjacent wall. He chuckled to himself, ready with a retort about payback for all the times he’d been subjected to the evidence of Dean’s various exploits.

Dean didn’t answer the door, so Sam knocked again, then tried the door handle. It was locked. He walked down to the next room to see if Cas was up, thinking maybe Dean had already gotten up and joined him in his room.

After a short rap on the door, Sam pushed it open, finding it unlocked. “Hey, Cas,” Sam said. The room was dark with the curtains pulled closed, but a shaft of grey light from the open door fell across the bed. Sam was surprised, though honestly not too surprised, to see Dean struggling to disentangle himself from the blankets and Cas’ limbs.

“What the hell, Sam,” Dean grumbled, finally dislodging Cas and sitting up, “you ever hear of knocking before you just barge into a room?”

Sam chuckled, leaning against the doorjamb. “I did knock, Dean.”

Cas sat up next to Dean, looking grumpy and ruffling his fingers through his hair. “Good morning, Sam,” he said.

“Morning, Cas.”

“Is there a reason why you’re here, Sam?” Dean said.

Sam noticed he didn’t move to stand or push the blankets any lower and he struggled not to break into a grin. “Yeah,” he said, “there’s this ghost we’re trying to find? Remember?”

“Yes, I remember, smartass. I mean is there a specific reason why you’re barging in here at this ungodly hour of the morning?”

“It’s like nine a.m., Dean,” Sam said with a chuckle, “Eileen and I are heading to the library, see if they have any record of Vivien or Sarah drowning here, then we’ll interview the lady who found the body in the pool. Just wanted to let you know we were leaving.”

“Shit,” Dean said, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes, “how the hell did I sleep so late?”

“Your body obviously needed the rest,” Cas said.

Sam couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at the glare Dean gave Cas. “We’re taking Eileen’s car,” he announced, “call me if you need anything.” As he pushed off the door jamb to pull the door closed he couldn’t resist calling out, “You two enjoy your quality time together today!” He chose not to hear Dean yelling for an explanation as he walked down the corridor to his room.

 

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean called after Sam. “Sammy!” The door swung closed with no answer from Sam and Dean turned to Cas. “What the hell was that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I assume it means he wants us to enjoy our time together,” Cas said, squinting at Dean.

“I know that Cas, but he’s implying shit.”

“What is it you think he’s implying?”

“That you and I, we’re...” he flopped a hand between them, “in a relationship, or whatever.”

“Well, aren’t we? We are friends, are we not?”

“No, I mean yes, of course we’re friends,” Dean said, his cheeks flushing. He stood and walked to the window to fidget with the curtains. “I mean he’s implying we’re more than friends.”

Dean pushed the curtains open and fiddled with the latch on the window. He kept his back to Cas.

“Ah,” Cas said, leaning back against the headboard and folding his hands in his lap, “you mean he’s implying we’re in a romantic relationship.”

Cas waited for Dean to turn around. When he did, he stood with his hands on his hips, eyes roaming over the bed, the walls, the ceiling, looking anywhere but at Castiel. Cas cleared his throat and leaned forward, crossing his legs in front of him and resting his elbows on his knees. He looked up at Dean where he stood at the end of the bed.

“Would you like to be?”

Finally Dean turned wide green eyes to Cas, shocked into making eye contact. They watched each other in silence for a moment. Cas tried to project an aura of calm, though his stomach was doing a weird fluttery thing and his chest felt suddenly tight.

“I’m—uh, excuse me?” Dean sputtered. “What?”

“Would you like to be?” Cas repeated. “More than friends.”

Dean scoffed and huffed a laugh, ran a hand over his face. Castiel’s chest constricted even tighter and suddenly it felt like the walls of the tiny hotel room were closing in on him. He shouldn’t have said anything. Dean didn’t think of him as anything other than a brother. He had misinterpreted things, as usual.

“Cas—” Dean said, eyes focused on the floor. Cas looked away.

“Forget it,” Cas said, pushing up off the bed and walking to the bathroom. “We should get moving.”

“Cas, wait,” Dean said.

Cas pretended he didn’t hear, closing the door behind him before Dean could say anything else. He turned the shower on and waited for the water to grow warm.

When he got out of the shower fifteen minutes later, Dean was gone from the room. Cas dried himself and dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a plain blue t-shirt, throwing a worn black denim button down over it. He pulled his boots on and walked outside.

Sam stood at the trunk of the Impala gathering his FBI badge and weapon. Cas nodded to him as he walked up, then focused on gathering salt, a couple of shotguns and a box of salt rounds, a couple of iron pokers, and the EMF meter from the trunk.

“You okay, Cas?” Sam asked, fitting a handgun into the holster he wore under his suit jacket.

“I’m fine,” Cas said, stuffing his supplies into an empty duffle bag.

“Hey,” Sam said, placing a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and leaning into Cas’ space to make eye contact, “listen, I’m sorry if I made things awkward for you this morning. I want you to know, if you ever need someone to talk to—privately, about anything—I’m here.”

Cas straightened and pulled the duffle bag containing the ghost hunting supplies out of the trunk. “Thank you, Sam,” he said, forcing a smile though it felt completely wrong, “I am fine though. Good luck with the witness.”

“Alright,” Sam said with a sigh. He patted Cas on the shoulder before walking away.

 

 

Dean sat at the foot of his bed, taking his time tying his boots. He wasn’t ready to leave the safety of his room and face Cas again. They’d spent the night together, starting out on opposite sides of the bed with plenty of space between them, but had somehow migrated towards each other while they slept. He’d woken up in Cas’ arms feeling warm and cared for, and in his fuzzy half awake state he’d stayed there instead of shaking Cas off and getting out of bed immediately. It had been nice.

Then Sam had barged in on Dean playing little spoon to Cas’ big spoon, and one stupid comment had sent Dean spiraling into panic. If anything was to happen between him and Cas, Dean wanted it to happen on their terms, with no intervention or interruption from his bumbling moose of a brother.

Cas had opened himself up, made himself completely vulnerable by acknowledging this attraction or whatever it was between them, and Dean had panicked and laughed. He was such an asshole. The last thing he wanted was to make Cas think he was completely opposed to the idea of being more than friends.

Dean didn’t want to deny this potential for something more than friendship between them anymore. He didn’t know what he was doing though, and he just hadn’t been ready to come right out and have a conversation about it with Cas, especially so soon after waking up.

Flirting with women, dropping innuendos and getting them to drop their panties was second nature to him. With guys though, it was different. He turned into a bumbling, flustered mess with every guy he’d ever flirted with. Probably because opportunities to pick up guys had been few and far between in the life he’d lived so far. With Cas it was even worse. He felt like a lovesick teenager with his first crush, stumbling over his words, tripping over his feet, and generally making a complete fool of himself.

When it seemed like Cas was flirting with him, and Dean had definitely noticed that happening more often lately, it was like his brain shut down. His heartbeat sped up, his cheeks flushed, even taking a steady breath felt like a challenge. He had no game at all when it came to Cas, and hearing those words from him... _would you like to be more,_ had been like being tossed into the ocean with no life preserver.

He’d panicked, and he’d laughed. Like a goddamn asshole, he’d laughed—because it was either that or admit it, say yes, grab Cas and slam him against the nearest available surface and finally find out what those stupid chapped lips felt like under his own.

And now he’d fucked it all up. Cas wouldn’t even look at him.

A sigh escaped his lips as he stood and pulled his jacket on. He grabbed his keys off the dresser and left the room, locking the door behind him.

Outside, the morning fog had thickened and filled the air with a fine mist. The sky had darkened some, and Dean wondered if it was supposed to rain. He hunched into his jacket, pulling it closer around him to stay dry as he walked toward Cas where he sat on the bottom step of one of the stairways that led up to the second level of hotel rooms.

Cas looked up and his gaze slid over to Dean. Their eyes locked and Dean’s footsteps, and his heart stuttered. He felt himself freeze up for a moment, fighting against dueling urges—run back and hide in his room, or run over and pull Cas into his arms, show him how sorry he was for being an asshole. Judging by the scowl that formed on Cas’ face as he looked away that was probably the last thing he wanted right then.

Dean cleared his throat and walked over to Cas, trying to decide what to say. _I’m sorry? I fucked up? I know you probably hate me, but..._

Cas beat him to it, standing up and walking towards the main part of the lodge. “We should get started,” he said as he passed.

Dean sucked in a breath and let it all out at once, then followed Cas in silence. This was going to be one hell of a long day.


	8. Chapter 8

Over the next hour, Cas and Dean scanned the entire perimeter of the property with the EMF meter. Not surprisingly, given the history of the place, traces of EMF abounded. They worked in an uncomfortable silence, only speaking if something related to the case came up. It was one of the most awkward hours of Dean’s life, and he’d been in some damn awkward situations before.

After rounding the main building, they entered through the bar’s patio to start scanning the stage room. No band played at this early hour and no groupies waited for them to show. An eerie silence permeated the room, which neither Dean nor Cas broke. They found no excessive EMF above the low baseline that seemed to pervade the entire property, so they continued into the Mermaid Room.

Dean kept close to Cas, eyeing the windows. The light filtering through them from the pool above illuminated the room, tinting it with a blueish glow. The EMF spiked near the window where Dean had seen the handprint appear the day before, but nowhere else, and no handprint or ghost made an appearance. Dean shivered, wondering if they were being watched and ushered Cas out of there as quickly as possible.

As they navigated the labyrinth of stairways in the Brookroom Dean kept a careful watch on Cas, looking for any sign that he might be getting sucked into another vision. EMF levels increased the closer they got to the creek, but Cas seemed unaffected. No ghosts made their presence known, so they moved on to the pool room.

They wound through the stacks of furnishings and around the pool, Dean focusing more of his attention on Cas than the EMF meter.

“You can stop worrying, Dean,” Cas said without looking up. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean said, looking around the room warily, “this place gives me the creeps, and you kinda scared the shit outta me yesterday.”

“And for that you have my apologies again, Dean,” Cas said, stopping to look around the room, “I should have informed you or Sam I was going to talk with Paul, and I said I’d tell you if the visions happened again.”

“Cas, you don’t have to keep apologizing,” Dean said, sighing. “I just—fuck, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because I wasn’t there, or wasn’t paying enough attention.”

Cas turned cold blue eyes on him, meeting his gaze for the first time since they had left the hotel rooms. “I understand, Dean,” he said, turning away again. “I wouldn’t want you to have to live with that guilt.”

“Cas, it’s not that—” Dean started, but was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the screen. “It’s Sam.”

“Answer it, it could be important,” Cas said, eyes glued to the EMF meter once again.

Dean sighed, and tapped the screen. “What do you got?” he said gruffly.

_“Hey, we just got done with the witness. She didn’t have anything other than what was already in her statement.”_

“Okay, anything else?” Dean asked, following Cas as he made his way around the pool’s edge with the EMF meter.

_“No luck at the library either. They don’t have records on Vivien or Sarah or any other suspicious drowning deaths at the lodge.”_

“Great,” Dean grumped.

_“Yeah, people must have remembered their names wrong. Or their records were lost. I used every search tool available and found nothing. Nothing reliable anyway.”_

“So we got no idea where their bones are,” Dean said, “and no more leads.”

_“Yeah, looks like this isn’t a simple salt and burn after all.”_

“No kidding,” Dean said, running a hand through his hair. “Why don’t you guys head on back. Me and Cas’ll finish up the EMF sweep and we’ll regroup when you get here, figure out our next steps.”

_“Sounds good. Cas still acting funny?”_

“No more than usual,” Dean said with a sigh as he watched Cas’ back.

 _“Alright,”_ Sam said. _“You two play nice, see you in a bit.”_

Dean tapped the screen to end the call and put the phone back in his pocket. While he’d been talking to Sam and focusing on watching Cas, they’d walked the circumference of the pool. Looking up, he noticed a mural covered the entire wall at the back of the room. “Huh,” he said, surprised he’d missed it earlier.

Cas stopped and turned around to face Dean. “What is it?”

“Oh, nothing, just—that,” he said, pointing over Cas’ shoulder to the giant mural of the sun—rising or setting, he couldn’t tell. From Dean’s vantage point, Cas stood in the center of the mural. It looked as if Cas was the origin of the yellow rays splayed across the wall. If he were a smoother man, or if Cas hadn’t been glaring daggers at him all day, he might have told Cas so. As things stood though, he just gave Cas a melancholy smile and walked towards the door. “Let’s head back downstairs. Sam and Eileen are on their way back.”

 

 

Cas followed Dean out of the pool room, only half listening to him as he talked.

“We should check with Paul,” Dean said, “see if he knows anything else about the girls who drowned. Maybe he knows of a cemetery nearby that we could check out.”

Cas hummed in agreement as they descended the stairs. The water rushed through the middle of the room below them, drawing Cas’ gaze. Calling this room the “Brookroom” was a bit of a misnomer given that the brook was more of a large creek. Although “Creekroom” didn’t have quite the same ring to it.

Dean said something about the high levels of EMF, and Cas hummed in agreement again. He slowed as they reached the lowest dining level and let his feet carry him over to a set of steps leading to the creek.

“Cas?” Dean said from somewhere behind him.

“Hmm?”

“You know I care about you, right?”

“Of course, Dean, like a brother.”

The steps Cas descended led to a small platform from which he could step down onto the rocks, and he followed them to get closer to the water. The sound of the water gushing from one end of the room to the other was louder from the creek’s edge, drowning out the sound of Dean’s voice. It almost sounded like the tinkling of a small child’s laughter as it bubbled and splashed against the rocks.

Dean was talking again, but Cas ignored him, straining to listen to the water. He heard the laughter again, clearer this time and definitely separate from the sound of the water. It sounded like it was coming from the bridge at the end of the room and he squinted in that direction, searching for the source.

As his gaze roamed that end of the room, a row of windows near the ceiling caught his eye. There were six clear arched window panes topped by panels of intricate stained glass divided by overlapping wooden arches. They reminded him of windows he’d seen in cathedrals.

The windows allowed a view of the tops of some of the giant redwoods surrounding the hotel with blue sky peeking between their branches. Rays of sunlight streamed through the glass, leading Cas’ gaze back down to the water. When he glanced back up at the windows the scene had changed. The row of arched glass panes that had dominated the wall was now one large circular pane of glass.

He scanned the room and found everything else changed as well. What had been an ornate, Bavarian style room was now simple and plain. Redwood planks made up the walls, which were broken up by several large square windows. Thick columns made from actual redwood tree trunks held up the ceiling and replaced the railings that had separated dining levels and lined the creek. It was the same room, but completely different.

Movement on the bridge where he had heard the sound of laughter drew his gaze. A girl hung over the bridge railing and dangled a doll over the water, singing and laughing. She wore a ruffled blue and white dress and her long blonde hair half tied up. As Cas watched, the doll slipped from her fingers. The girl reached for it, but it fell into the water and swirling eddies pulled it away until it caught on a rock.

“Sally, no!” the girl squealed, running to the end of the bridge where she scrambled down the slippery rocks to the creek. Cas watched in wide-eyed horror as the girl lost her footing and tumbled down the rocks. Her head met stone with a sickening smack and Cas lunged forward. He plunged into the creek, heedless of the cold water swirling around his ankles, but something held him back.

Cas struggled to keep moving as the girl’s lifeless body splashed into the water face down. “I have to go, she needs me,” Cas growled, pushing against the invisible wall in his path. It didn’t budge. “I have to go. I have to help her or she’ll drown!”

The girl lay unmoving in the water as it swirled around her, washing the blood from her blonde locks. And then everything went black.

 

 

Dean followed Cas down the steps, watching him as he stood at the water’s edge and surveyed the room. Silence engulfed them again, only broken by the gurgling and bubbling of the creek. Cas deserved so much more than Dean could give, but the thought of letting this charged silence between them grow made his stomach twist.

“Cas?” he said, stuffing his free hand in his pocket to keep from reaching out.

“Hmm?” Cas said, barely turning his head at the sound of Dean’s voice.

“You know I care about you, right?”

“Of course, Dean, like a brother,” Cas mumbled, taking another step down towards the creek.

“No, Cas. Dammit, would you just stop? Just listen to me, give me a chance to explain.” Dean followed Cas to the creek’s edge, talking to his back. “I’m the one who should be apologizing,” he said, deflating with a sigh. “I don’t know what I’m doing. You scare the shit out of me in general, like every day, and I need you so much it fucking terrifies me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, except maybe Sam, but this is different, Cas, this is _more_.”

Dean waited, not sure how to continue, willing Cas to turn toward him, to say something. But he kept his back to Dean, silent, staring down into the eddying currents of the creek.

“Fuck, Cas,” he said, stepping closer, and dragging a hand through his hair. “I’m an asshole, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh earlier.” His hands trembled, but he reached out. He needed to feel Cas’ warmth under his fingertips, needed to look into his luminous blue eyes.

His gripped Cas’ shoulder and he tried to pull his body around, but Cas didn’t budge. “Cas, man, look at me,” he said in a low, trembling voice, “please.”

Cas didn’t acknowledge him. Dean realized his fingers were growing cold where they rested on Cas’ shoulder. Dean stepped closer, angling his body into Cas’ field of vision and sliding his hand up to Cas’ cheek. His skin was like ice. “Cas?” he said, raising his voice. Cas’ eyes were fixed on something across the room, glazed over like they had been in the Mermaid Room the previous day.

“Shit,” Dean said, smacking Cas’ cheek gently but firmly. “Cas, snap out of it!”

Instead of slowly gaining awareness like he had before, Cas stared unseeing in the direction of the bridge that spanned the creek. He took a step forward, placing a foot into the water.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean said, “don’t do this, Cas! Wake up!” He dropped the bag of supplies he’d been carrying and jumped into the creek to stand in front of Cas. Bringing both hands up, he pushed against Cas’ chest to prevent him from going any further into the water. Cas was frigid beneath his thin cotton t-shirt. A wave of panic threatened to submerge Dean, making his heart race and his stomach twist.

At the sound of a throaty giggle, he turned in the direction Cas was staring. Dean swallowed and blinked, straining to see into the darkness beneath the bridge. A woman emerged, pale, green tinged skin only partially covered by long, dark hair, hanging limp and wet, plastered against her body. It trailed into the water, swirling around her calves. Her eyes blazed like twin green flames from beneath the dark strands.

“Oh, what the fuck is that,” Dean said. She didn’t look like any ghost he’d ever seen. She was solid and real looking, except for her glowing eyes. As Dean pushed against Cas, a predatory smile crept across the woman’s face as she beckoned with a finger. Cas surged against him.

“I have to go, she needs me,” Cas mumbled.

“No, Cas. What she needs,” Dean grunted, leaning all his weight against Cas, “is a salt round to the face.” He couldn’t risk letting up long enough to reach the bag of supplies and his shotgun though. “If you don’t wake the fuck up right now I’m gonna have to knock you out, Cas. I don’t want to, but you’re not giving me much of a choice here.”

“Have to go, have to help her, she’ll drown,” Cas continued mumbling, pushing forward.

“Fuck, you’re gonna hate me even more for this,” Dean said, leaning back and giving himself some room. “Sorry, Cas.” He kept one hand pressed to Cas’ chest, holding him in place as he pulled the other back and slammed his fist into Cas’ jaw.

Cas’ eyes rolled back into his head and the EMF meter slipped out of his hand, bouncing off a rock and splashing into the water. He slumped forward, and Dean grunted when Cas’ weight fell against him.

“God, you’re heavier than you look,” he said as he half-dragged half-carried Cas to the platform at the water’s edge. He quickly lowered Cas, careful not to let his head drop to the concrete too hard, and scrambled to grab his shotgun from the duffle bag he’d dropped earlier.

Shotgun in hand, he lifted it to his shoulder as he swung around. His finger rested on the trigger, ready to fire. But the spot where the creepy naked water lady had stood under the bridge was empty. He scanned the room, eyes darting over every darkened corner, but saw nothing. She was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

After hoisting Cas over his shoulders in a firefighter carry, Dean lugged him up the steps, through the lodge, and across the parking lot. He struggled under the dead weight, but adrenaline kept him going and the worry that the creature would come back for Cas spurred him on.

While they’d been inside, the morning mist had turned into a drizzle, and by the time he got Cas to the room his hair and face were dripping. Cas’ body had sheltered him from most of the rain though. Pushing through the door to his room, he deposited Cas on the bed, then dug his phone out of his pocket to call Sam.

“ _Hey, Dean_ ,” Sam said, picking up after a couple of rings.

“Where the hell are you, Sammy? Something’s up with Cas and we’re not dealing with a fuckin’ ghost,” Dean said in a rush, pulling down an extra blanket from the shelf in the closet. Cas’ clothes were wet from the rain, and his boots and jeans were soaked from the creek. He had to get him warm and dry.

“ _We’re not far. Made a detour for food. So what are we dealing with?_ ”

“I’m not sure. Pale chick, long hair, freaky glowing green eyes. She had Cas in some kind of trance. I had to knock him out to keep him from walking straight into her clutches.”

“ _Okay, we’ll be there as soon as we can, sit tight._ ”

Sam ended the call and Dean tossed his phone. It landed on the nightstand with a clatter. Dean shook out the blanket and laid it over Cas, tucking the edges close against his body. Cas groaned and curled in on himself when Dean pressed a hand to his cheek. His skin was still clammy and cold.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his shoulder. “Cas,” he said softly, “hey buddy, you awake?”

Cas groaned and one eye opened to a slit. “Don’t call me buddy,” he mumbled into the blanket.

An unexpected laugh bubbled up from Dean’s chest. Cas continued to glare at him, which only served to make Dean laugh harder. “Okay, what should I call you then?”

“I don’t know, just not buddy. Why is it so cold? And why does my head hurt so bad?” Cas asked, hissing when he ran his fingers over his jaw. “What happened?”

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that,” Dean said, moving to the foot of the bed to remove Cas’ soggy boots. “I had to knock you out. Some freaky naked chick with glowing green eyes put you in some kind of trance and had you walking out into the middle of the creek.”

“You hit me?” Cas grumbled, rolling onto his back and glaring at Dean.

“Hey, you gave me no choice,” Dean said, dropping a boot to the floor, “and I had to carry your heavy ass all the way back here so it wasn’t exactly a picnic for me either.”

“So sorry to have inconvenienced you,” Cas said drily.

Dean rolled his eyes, dropping the second boot and peeling off Cas’ wet socks. “Come on, we need to get you warmed up.” He moved to help Cas sit up, making sure the blanket stayed wrapped around his shoulders. “Think you can walk?”

“I—I think so,” Cas said, his body wracked with shivers as he was exposed to more of the cool air.

Dean lifted Cas’ arm and placed it around his shoulder then helped him to stand. He led Cas to the bathroom and sat him on the closed toilet. Cas wrapped his arms around himself and shivered in silence while Dean started the bath water running. Dean’s heart clenched when he looked back at Cas’ pale face. He’d come so close to losing him. Again.

“A warm bath will help,” Dean said, clearing his throat and focusing on adjusting the water temperature. “Do you, uh... think you can get yourself undressed and in the water?”

“Yes. I’m fine,” Cas said through chattering teeth. He uncurled his arms and let the blanket fall, then started to pull off his denim button down. He struggled with pulling a cuff over his wrist, hands shaking.

Dean stepped forward, gently pushing Cas’ hand away so he could undo the buttons on both sleeves. He pulled one sleeve down and over Cas’ hand and his fingertips trailed over Cas’ knuckles. Dean suppressed a shiver of his own then started on the other arm.

“Arms up,” Dean said after removing the denim and pausing with the hem of Cas’ t-shirt between his fingertips.

“Dean, I’m not a child,” Cas grumbled between clenched teeth.

“Dude, come on, you’re shivering so hard you can barely control your limbs. Just let me help.”

Cas raised his arms without further argument, glaring in silence. Dean bit his tongue to keep from calling Cas a stubborn mule and pulled the t-shirt up, revealing the expanse of tanned, taut skin that had sent him into a tailspin the night before. Dean swallowed. His knuckles brushed against velvety soft skin as he pulled the thin fabric over Cas’ head. Dean hoped Cas’ shivering would disguise how badly his own hands trembled.

“Alright,” Dean said, clearing his throat and tossing the shirt aside before holding his hands out for Cas to grasp, “up you go.”

Cas pulled himself upright. Dean sucked in a shuddering breath when Cas’ face stopped mere inches from his own. They froze, still holding hands, though Dean barely noticed. He was pinned under blue eyes that burned straight through him, erasing all coherent thought from his mind. Butterflies took flight in Dean’s stomach when he felt Cas exhale, his breath warm and moist on across Dean’s lips.

“This isn’t exactly how I’d pictured you undressing me for the first time,” Cas said.

Dean tore his gaze from Cas’ mouth. “Uh...” he said, his brain struggling to parse the meaning of Cas’ words, “you’ve uh... pictured that?”

“Once or twice,” Cas said, looking down and away with a soft laugh as a pink blush spread over his cheeks. He slid his hands out of Dean’s and stepped back, moving to undo the button on his jeans. Dean heard the whisper of a zipper and then Cas hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans, raising his gaze to meet Dean’s.

For a moment neither of them moved, the sound of their breath and the water flowing into the bathtub the only disruptions to the silence. Dean felt a tug deep inside him and he swayed into Cas’ space. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Cas’ otherworldly blue eyes. At that moment Cas was the ethereal creature with the glowing eyes and Dean was the one enthralled.

He needed to get out of this bathroom, immediately.

“I’ll, uh, just be outside if you need me,” Dean said, the words tumbling from his lips in a rush as he backed towards the door. His shoulder hit the doorjamb as he passed through the doorway and he laughed it off, fumbling the door closed behind him.

 

 

Castiel emerged from the bathroom a short time later, clothed in a pair of Dean’s jeans and a soft black henley that Dean had shoved at him, cracking the bathroom door open just wide enough to fit the clothes through. Any pleasure wearing Dean’s clothing would normally have given him was dampened by his annoyance at Dean not trusting to leave him alone for the short amount of time it would have taken to grab Castiel’s clothes from the room next door.

Rubbing at his damp hair with a towel, Cas walked over to the bed where Dean lay stretched out, arms wrapped around a bunched up pillow behind his head. Eileen sat cross-legged near his feet. Sam had commandeered the room’s lone chair and had his laptop balanced on his knees.

“Hello, Sam. Eileen,” he said, giving Eileen a small wave.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam said, looking up from his laptop.

“Feeling better?” Dean asked, scooting over to make room for Cas.

“Yes,” he said, lowering himself to the bed and leaning back against the headboard, “the bath warmed me sufficiently.”

“So,” Sam said, sitting back in his chair, “Dean told us about the woman he saw. Did you see her?”

“No,” Cas said, “I saw a little girl.” He described the girl he’d seen fall into the water, and how he’d felt drawn to help her.

“Sounds like Sarah Logan,” Dean said when Cas finished.

“It does,” Sam said. “So Dean saw a woman in the water, naked with glowing green eyes, and Cas got sucked into some kind of death memory or something. What do you guys think we’re dealing with here?”

“I might have an idea,” Cas said.

“Yeah? Something you’ve seen before?” Dean said, pushing himself up to sitting.

“Possibly,” Cas said. “Your description combined with my experiences sounds familiar. I’ve heard stories of similar creatures that use their voice and beauty to lure men into the water, or trick them into seeing a woman in distress. I’ve never heard of them being seen this far west though.”

“I grew up with stories like that,” Eileen said, “of mermaids luring men into the ocean with their song.”

“Mermaids?” Dean said, screwing up his face in disbelief, “so you think we’re dealing with Ariel gone rogue?”

Sam rolled his eyes and released an exasperated sigh.

“The mermaids I know of are not nearly as nice as Ariel. More like Ursula,” Eileen said. “They would either eat the men or trap them underwater as their prisoner.”

“Yeah, I think I’d rather run into Ariel,” Dean said. “This thing didn’t have a fish tail though.”

“Well, the creature I’m thinking of is called a Rusalka,” Cas said. “It’s a water spirit of Slavic origins, with legs instead of a fish tail. They usually appear to men; beautiful and naked with long, wet hair, and glowing eyes. They’re created when a young woman dies by violence or drowning.”

“That does fit with the history of this place,” Eileen said.

“It certainly does,” Cas nodded. “Their MO also seems to fit with the recent drowning death and my experiences today. Once they’ve lured the men into deep water they drown them.”

“But you weren’t in deep water,” Sam said, “the creek is less than a foot deep. And the pool where Kurt drowned was completely empty.”

“Yeah, but when do any of the monsters we hunt follow the rules exactly,” Dean replied. “It wouldn’t surprise me if this thing could trick your body into thinking it’s drowning, or mojo water into your lungs if it wanted to. It is a water spirit.”

“That could be an explanation,” Cas mused. “When we were in the Mermaid Room I saw the pool filled with water, and I saw a girl drowning. It looked so real… I thought if I could get to her I could save her.”

“Alright, so how do we kill this Rusalka thing?” Dean asked.

“I’m not sure. Most of the legends I’ve heard just say to avoid women in lakes or waterways,” Cas said.

“Unless they’re trying to give you a sword, right?” Dean said with a smirk.

“I don’t understand that reference,” Cas said, squinting at him. “Why would—”

“Hold on,” Sam said, staring at his laptop, “I might have something. This lore site says the Rusalka can’t spend much time away from water. Its gotta keep its hair wet at all times. If its hair dries, it dies.”

“Okay,” Dean said, “so we figure out how to trap this thing and keep it away from water sources. Then what, attack it with a blowdryer?”

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean and kept tapping away at his keyboard, but Cas didn’t think it was such a bad plan, despite how ridiculous it sounded. “First we need to figure out a way to trap it,” he said.

“Mermaids are supposed to be mesmerized by their reflection,” Eileen said, “maybe the Rusalka is the same? I’ll text some of my contacts in Europe, see if they know anything.”

“Good idea. Let’s head back to the library too, maybe they’ve got some books on Slavic mythology,” Sam said, standing and stuffing his laptop into its bag.

“Hand me my laptop before you go?” Dean asked Sam.

“Really, dude?”

“Dude, come on, it’s right there on the floor by the chair. And my back hurts from carrying this brick shithouse,” Dean said, tilting his head in Cas’ direction. “He’s like solid muscle, heavier than he looks.”

“Fine,” Sam said, snorting but picking up the laptop case and dropping it on the bed next to Dean. “Here you go old man.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here whipper-snapper,” Dean said, pushing himself to sit up against the headboard and pulling his laptop over to rest on his legs.

“We’ll call and check in if we find anything,” Sam said. He followed Eileen out the door and closed it behind them, leaving Dean and Cas alone in the hotel room.

They sat in a comfortable silence while Dean booted up his laptop, until Cas laughed. Dean lifted an eyebrow, turning to look at him.

“Excalibur,” Cas said, lips drawn into a grin, “and the Lady of the Lake. That’s what you were referring to earlier.”

“Well, there’s hope for you yet,” Dean said, flashing a grin at Cas before typing some search terms into the browser on his laptop. “Now, let’s see what we can find in the way of heavy duty hair dryers so we can vanquish this watery tart.”

 

 

Dean set his plate on the bedside table, leaving his slice of pizza only half eaten. “Are we sure this is gonna work?” he asked. They’d made a plan and obtained all the supplies, then gone over the plan again while they ate. But instead of being reassured, Dean had only grown more uneasy about it.

“I think it’s our best shot,” Sam answered.

“I still think we should try a salt and burn first,” Dean grumbled. “She’s technically a human spirit, I don’t see why it wouldn’t work.”

“Dean, we’ve gone over this,” Sam said.

“Well, let’s go over it again before we resort to sending Cas out there to drown,” Dean shouted, rising from the bed to pace the length of the room.

“Even if we knew for sure who she was in life, we have no idea where she was buried,” Sam said. “Everything I found at the library said it’s possible dozens of people were killed and buried here by the mob in the 30s and 40s, and you know the mob doesn’t mark the burial sites of the people they kill. Not to mention the stories don’t give any actual names.”

“Sam,” Eileen said, placing a placating hand on his shoulder. They had a silent conversation, signing animatedly while Dean continued to pace and Cas lounged on the bed watching them all. He looked way too relaxed given the fact they were discussing using him as bait to lure out a creature that had tried to kill him twice already.

After a few minutes Sam threw his hands up in defeat and Eileen turned to Dean. “Dean, I know you don’t want to see Cas hurt—none of us do,” she said, catching his arm as he tried to pace by her. “And if Cas doesn’t want to do this, we’ll figure something else out. We’ll call another hunter in if we need to and you two can take off. But this plan is the best option we have. And we’ll all be there in case anything goes wrong.”

Dean deflated. Eileen’s puppy dog eyes were on par with Sam’s, and she had a point.

“Sam, Eileen,” Cas said, rising from the bed and coming to stand beside Dean, “you two should gather your supplies and get some rest. Dean and I will meet you outside at three, as we discussed.”

“Yeah, sure Cas,” Sam said, standing and collecting his and Eileen’s empty plates and tossing them in the trash. “We’ll be in our room if you need us.”

“Goodnight guys,” Eileen said, then followed Sam out the door.

Dean felt Cas’ eyes on him as he resumed pacing the room. He stopped in front of the window and stared out at the darkened sky. A thick mist had rolled in and the drizzle from earlier had turned into steady rain, obscuring his view. “What if it doesn’t work?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“It will work,” Cas said. “You’ll be there with the mirror to distract her, Eileen will have the sigil ready, and Sam will be ready with the net. Once we have her trapped all we have to do is turn on the fans and wait for her hair to dry.”

“And then what, when her hair’s dry she just poofs or—or fades away?”

“If all goes to plan,” Cas said, his reflection in the window shrugging.

“That doesn't make me feel any better,” Dean said with a humorless laugh, then shook his head. “I can’t let you do this, Cas.”

Cas sighed and began gathering the remains of their dinner. “It isn’t up to you to _let me_ do anything, Dean,” he said, shoving paper plates into the trash can.

“Yes, it is up to me,” Dean said, rounding on Cas and staring him down. “You’re still figuring out this whole being human thing, you don’t know your limitations yet and I can’t let you get hurt like …” he trailed off and looked away, visions of Cas tied to a chair, bloody and limp, or burned inside and out by Amara and Lucifer, invading his mind. “I can’t let you get hurt again. I won’t.”

“Dean, I know you think I’m helpless without my grace. I can’t even heal myself if I get hurt, let alone be helpful in fighting off this creature. But I can do this. I can help, and I’m going to help. I can’t stand by and let innocent people die if there’s anything I can do to stop it.”

“Yeah, and what if we don’t stop it? What if it kills you, pulls you off into dreamland and drowns you? How the hell am I supposed to live with myself knowing I could have stopped it all and gotten you out of here safely?”

“Dean, would you be able to live with yourself if we left and another innocent was killed?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I would,” Dean shouted, “because at least...” Dean trailed off, deflating as his anger drained away. “At least I’d still have you. You’re worth more to me than… than any of them.”

“You don’t mean that,” Cas breathed.

Dean paced back to the window. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to watch people I care about sacrifice themselves to save innocent people?” he said, staring out at the rolling fog. “You and Sam are all I have left. I don’t think I could go on living if either of you died on my watch.”

“Dean—”

“I almost lost you to Lucifer in the name of saving the world... I can’t let you sacrifice yourself again,” Dean said, turning away from the window. Cas was leaning against the dresser, arms crossed and jaw set. “Cas, I need you, man.”

“Why?” Cas scoffed. “Why do you need a helpless ex-angel with no powers who you don’t trust to fight alongside you? What good am I to you if I can’t help?”

“Dammit, Cas, that’s not—you’re not useless,” Dean said, raking a hand through his hair, “and there’s nobody I’d want fighting by my side more than you, but—”

“But you don’t think I can handle myself.”

“No! I mean yes,” Dean sputtered, “I know you can handle yourself. I just—I…” the words caught in Dean’s throat. Cas stared at him from across the room, blue eyes blazing. Dean gave up trying to force the words out. He strode across the room and cupped Cas’ face in his hands. Then before he could talk himself out of it, he kissed him.

Cas dropped his hands to brace himself against the dresser and froze. After a moment, Dean pulled back, heart pounding and hands shaking. Cas stared at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open. He didn’t seem to be breathing.

“Shit, I—I don’t—I’m sorry,” Dean said, dropping his gaze and retreating to the door. He hesitated with his hand on the doorknob, then stepped out into the rain and let the door swing shut behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

Castiel hesitated a moment outside of Dean’s door before knocking twice. His heart hammered in his chest, filling his ears and drowning out the sound of the rain pounding against the concrete. He was an angel—a warrior of god. He’d faced down hordes of demons, leviathans, archangels, the darkest forces in the universe without breaking a sweat, but here he was, scared to confront Dean.

“Who is it?” Dean’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“It’s me,” Cas answered. “Can I—can we talk?”

After a moment, the door opened and Dean stepped aside to let Cas in. He wouldn’t meet Cas’ eyes.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, stopping just inside the doorway and pushing the door shut behind him.

“Hey,” Dean said, then took a swig from the bottle of beer dangling from his fingers. He gestured with the bottle as he walked to the green ice chest sitting across the room. “You want one?”

“Yes, thank you,” Cas said. Dean pulled a bottle out and opened it, and Cas took it from him with trembling fingers and lifted it to his mouth. He guzzled half the bottle before asking the question he’d been agonizing over for the last half hour. “Dean, why did you kiss me?”

Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and took a long swig from his own beer before answering. “I don’t know, Cas, I just—”

“Did you kiss me because you wanted to, or because you thought I wanted you to?”

Dean finally met his eyes and they regarded each other for a moment before Dean huffed a laugh and took another swig from his beer. He picked at the label on the bottle. “Honestly, I didn’t really think it through,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “A little of both maybe.”

Cas downed the rest of his beer and walked over to the dresser, slamming the empty bottle down and gripping the wood in one hand. “Dean Winchester, if you kissed me just because you thought I wanted you to, because you thought it would shut me up, I swear—”

“Cas, I didn’t—that wasn’t it,” Dean said.

“Then why?” Cas said, turning around to glare at Dean where he still sat on the bed.

Dean took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, then stood and downed the rest of his own beer. He tossed the empty bottle into the trash and rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanted to,” he said, so quietly that Cas almost didn’t hear it over the sound of the rain battering the building.

“You wanted to?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, throwing his hands up, “I wanted to kiss you, alright? I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you wanted.”

Cas furrowed his brow, watching Dean. “If you wanted to, then why did you run away?”

Dean laughed. “Seriously? Felt like I was like kissing a damn statue. You were very obviously not into it. I fucked up, like I always do. So I ran, like I do,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and staring at his feet. “I’m sorry.”

“Dean,” Cas said, taking a step towards him, “you have nothing to apologize for. I thought I had made it obvious that I would very much like to explore a physical relationship with you—”

“How? By freezing as soon as I touched you?”

“I apologize for that,” Cas said, taking another step closer. “I… well, I have little experience with this sort of human relation and what experience I do have has not ended well. And you surprised me. You went from yelling at me to kissing me, and I have to admit I didn’t know what to think or how to respond… so I froze.”

Dean laughed and looked up at Cas through his lashes. “I’m such an asshole,” he said, “I guess I forget sometimes that you can be pretty clueless when it comes to things like this.”

“Yes, I can be clueless, and you can definitely be an asshole,” Cas said, fighting to keep the smirk off his face as he took a step closer. They stood less than a foot apart now, close enough that Cas could see the individual flecks of gold in the green of Dean’s eyes.

“Yeah, sorry,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck, “but uh—I could, I dunno, make it up to you? You know, if you wanted to try again.”

“I would like that, Dean.”

“Okay, well good,” Dean said, blushing from his neck to the tips of his ears, “uh, that’s good. So...”

“So?” Cas said. His heart began to pound again. He took another small step forward, leaving them only inches apart, breathing the same air.

Dean looked up and met Cas’ gaze, the black of his pupils slowly overtaking the golden-green of his eyes. Dean’s tongue darted out to moisten his lips, and Cas lifted a trembling hand to Dean’s cheek. He grazed the slick pink swell of Dean’s bottom lip with his thumb, pressing down gently to part his lips. When Dean released a shuddering exhale, his breath caressed the tip of Cas’ thumb.

Cas let loose his own shaky breath and leaned forward, sliding his fingers into the silky hair at the nape of Dean’s neck and pressing their lips together. It was softer than their first kiss, and Cas pulled back when he realized Dean seemed to be frozen this time, his hands balled at his sides. “You can touch me, Dean.”

“I know, I just—” Dean stammered, fingering the edges of his shirt. Dean huffed a laugh and the short exhalation of air hit Cas’ lips, setting off a fluttering in his abdomen. “I don’t want to overwhelm you again.”

Cas huffed a laugh and watched Dean for a moment, stroking a thumb across Dean’s jaw. “What if I want you to?” he asked, smiling at Dean’s widening eyes. When he leaned forward to press his lips to Dean’s again, Dean groaned and surged forward, claiming Cas’ mouth with the heat of his own. Cas’ stomach fluttered and heat started to build deep inside of him as Dean wrapped him in his arms, pulling him close.

The hotel room and all Cas’ worries about the plan faded away, until Dean’s mouth on his, Dean’s arms holding him tight were all he was aware of. Dean ran a hand up his spine and into his hair, gripping the short strands and pulling Cas’ head back. Then his mouth was on Cas’ jaw, leaving a wet trail of kisses down his neck to soothe the burn of his stubble on the sensitive skin. Cas shivered and his arms tightened around Dean’s shoulders as the dull pain where Dean gripped his hair combined with the soft, wetness of Dean’s lips dragging along his throat.

“Cas,” Dean mumbled between kisses, “wanted to do this for so long, God, you drive me crazy.”

Cas chuckled. “ _ I _ drive  _ you  _ crazy?” he said, gasping when Dean’s teeth grazed his neck. “You have no idea,” he growled, pulling his head down until Dean released his hair, “how frustrating it’s been—” he grasped Dean’s chin, forcing his face up and punctuating the rest of his words with kisses while backing him towards the bed, “—trying to acclimate to an exponentially increased libido while being confronted daily by your inescapable presence.”

“Fuck it’s hot when you talk like that,” Dean groaned, digging his fingers into the meat of Cas’ ass and grinding against him.

Cas’ breath hitched as a surge of heat flooded through him, and he shamelessly thrust against the hard bulge evident through Dean’s jeans. The movement threw them off balance and Dean stumbled back a step, knees buckling when his legs hit the edge of the bed.

Cas tightened his arm around Dean’s waist and tried to slow their fall, but Dean latched onto him and pulled, causing Cas to land on top of him with a grunt. Cas lifted himself up on his elbows and took in the sight of Dean laughing breathlessly beneath him. His pupils were blown and his freckled cheeks were flushed. Even his lips, pink and swollen, were sprinkled with freckles.

“You are... breathtaking,” Cas said.

Dean’s cheeks flamed an even brighter pink as he dodged Cas’ gaze, but his lips curved into a smile. “Dude, shut up,” he said, pulling Cas down to him and kissing him. Cas opened to him, letting Dean deepen the kiss, letting himself drown in the taste of him. Dean slid his hands underneath Cas’ layers of shirts, skimming over Cas’ ribs, sending a shiver up his spine.

“Dean,” Cas gasped, the word dissolving into a whimper when Dean’s hands slid down past the waistband of his jeans.

“This okay, Cas?” Dean asked between the kisses he trailed down Cas’ chin and neck.

“Yes, please, Dean,” Cas moaned, and Dean squeezed his ass and ground up against him.

“I got you, baby,” Dean whispered, his warm breath tickling Cas’ ear and making his scalp tingle. They ground against each other through their jeans, exploring every bit of accessible skin with fingers and tongues and teeth, until Dean pulled away, breathing hard. Cas lifted up to look at him.

“Lift up for a minute,” Dean said, pushing gently against Cas’ chest. Cas did as he said, pushing up to his hands and knees. Dean shimmied farther up onto the bed and sat up, pulling off his flannel and ripping his t-shirt off over his head, keeping his eyes locked on Cas the entire time. 

When Dean beckoned to him, holding his hands out, Cas crawled forward to settle in Dean’s lap. He wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and ran his hands down Dean’s back as Dean sighed into his mouth. They kissed until he felt Dean’s hands slide under his henley to push it up his torso. They separated just long enough for Dean to pull it over his head, then fell against each other again. Dean lay back against the pillows, pulling Cas with him.

Cas was aching for Dean, his cock throbbing in time with his racing heart. His hips ground down of their own accord as he explored the newly revealed flesh of Dean’s chest with his hand and lips. As he sucked a bruise over Dean’s collarbone, his thumb grazed across Dean’s nipple. Dean groaned at the touch, and Cas felt it vibrate through Dean’s chest against his lips. He experimentally ran his thumb over the hardening nub again. Dean’s breath hitched and his fingers tightened where they had been running through Cas’ hair. Cas catalogued that information for future use.

When Cas ran his thumb over Dean’s nipple a third time Dean growled and rolled them over, pinning Cas’ arms over his head and holding him down with the weight of his body. “You keep doing that and this isn’t gonna last very long,” he said, kissing Cas and then moving down his body.

Cas gasped as Dean flicked the tip of his tongue over one of his nipples. He sucked it into his mouth, running his teeth over the hardened flesh. A burst of heat shot through Cas’ body straight to his cock. “Oh, Dean,” he gasped, thrusting his twitching cock against Dean’s hip. The exquisite pressure combined with the wet heat of Dean’s mouth on his nipple set off sparks behind his eyelids.

Dean’s low chuckle reverberated against Cas’ skin. “See what I mean?”

“Yes,” he whined, hands struggling where Dean still held them above his head, “Dean, please... I need...” he trailed off, not sure what he needed, only that he  _ needed _ , desperately.

Dean pulled off his nipple, dragging his teeth over it one last time and Cas writhed beneath him. His cock strained against his confining clothing.

“Tell me what you need, Cas,” Dean said, trailing kisses up Cas’ chest.

“I—” Cas struggled to think, his mind clouded with desire, “I—I don’t know—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Dean mumbled against his lips before kissing him again. He slid his hands down Cas’ arms, releasing them, and propped himself up on one elbow. His other hand trailed down Cas’ torso, pulling another gasp out of Cas as a finger traced around his abused nipple. He stopped at Cas’ belly, fingers skimming through the dark hair trailing down from his navel. Cas opened his eyes to find Dean watching him, green eyes dark with want.

Cas’ belly twitched as Dean’s fingers traced circles against the sensitive skin, moving lower and lower until he reached the waistband of Cas’ jeans. Dean looked away, his already flushed cheeks growing pinker as he traced along the edge of Cas’ waistband with one finger. “Can I touch you?” he asked, looking back up to meet Cas’ eyes.

Cas nodded, breath growing shallow. He was beyond coherent speech, on the verge of shoving Dean’s hand down the front of his pants himself.

“Gotta hear you say it, Cas,” Dean said, smirking as he dipped his finger just under the edge of Cas’ jeans.

Cas whined, his hips involuntarily thrusting up towards Dean’s hand. “Fuck, yes,” he growled, “I want your hand on me now, Dean.” He shoved a hand into Dean’s hair and pulled him down for a searing kiss while Dean undid the button of his jeans.

Cas’ breath stuttered as Dean pulled his zipper down, dragging his knuckles over the layers of fabric covering the length of his cock. Trembling fingers trailed back up, skimming over the fabric with a barely there touch. Cas’ cock pulsed, straining towards Dean’s hand in search of more friction.

His breath stuck in his throat as Dean’s hand finally slipped under the waistband of his boxers and wrapped around him. Dean stroked him slowly from the base to the head and back down again.

A moan escaped Cas’ mouth when Dean swiped a thumb over his sensitive tip, spreading precome down the length of him. His hips began pumping a slow but steady rhythm, thrusting into Dean’s fist. He dug his fingers into Dean’s hips and strained up to kiss him, then slid a hand down Dean’s abdomen and past the waistband of Dean’s jeans.

Dean sucked in a breath against Cas’ lips as Cas wrapped his fingers around Dean’s cock. He was hard and thick, and Cas trailed his fingers along the length of him, caressing the velvety smooth skin. The angle was a bit awkward, but he twisted his wrist and wrapped his fingers around Dean and gripped him. He began pumping along with the rhythm of his own cock thrusting into Dean’s fist.

“Oh, fuck, Cas,” Dean groaned, dropping his head to mouth at Cas’ shoulder.

“Am I doing it right? Is this how you like to be touched?” Cas asked, the words stuttered between his shuddering breaths.

“Yeah,” Dean said with a breathless chuckle that tickled against Cas’ neck, “yeah, just having your hands on me at all is awesome, you can touch me however you want and it'll be fucking perfect.” His words ended on a moan that Cas swallowed with a desperate kiss. There was a heat growing in his core, making his hips stutter as Dean’s hand slid up his cock, twisting a little at the top before gliding back down.

Dean broke their kiss, leaning their foreheads together as they both struggled to catch their breath. Then he slid his hand out of Cas’ boxers and up his chest. Cas whined at the loss and pushed Dean onto his back, laughing at Dean’s surprised yelp. He straddled Dean’s thigh and ground his hips down, needing friction against his aching cock. Rubbing against fabric wasn't nearly as good as Dean’s hand though.

“Cas,” Dean said, running his hands down the back of Cas’ jeans again and hooking his thumbs over the waistband, “I wanna try something, but these are in the way.”

“Then take them off,” Cas growled around the mark he was sucking into Dean’s throat.

“That's the plan, but you gotta help me out here,” Dean said, pushing the jeans down as far as he could.

“Oh,” Cas said, rolling off of Dean and reaching down to pull his jeans and boxers past his hips. He kicked them off his feet and pushed himself farther up the bed so he could lay against the pillows. Dean got up and Cas admired the view as Dean bent over to grab something out of his bag, but the view when Dean came back, flicking the button of his jeans open with one hand and pushing them to the floor, was even better.

Cas’ mouth went dry and his cock bobbed where it lay full and heavy against his stomach as he watched a fully naked Dean Winchester walk towards him with hunger in his eyes. Dean smirked and crawled across the bed, hovering over Cas and kissing him deeply. Cas smoothed his hands down the velvety skin of Dean’s sides to his ass, grabbing and pulling until the weight of Dean’s body settled fully on top of him.

Cas ground his cock up against Dean, breath catching at the feel of Dean’s cock sliding against him. “Was this what you wanted to try?” he said, moving to kiss Dean’s shoulder.

“Not exactly,” Dean said, voice catching on the words as Cas scraped his teeth over the skin at the juncture of Dean's shoulder. “Hold on, let me lift up a second.”

“Dean,” Cas whined, grasping Dean’s hip as Dean slid off to lay on the mattress at his side.

“Patience, Cas,” Dean said, pressing a quick kiss against Cas’ lips, “it'll be worth it, trust me.”

“Whatever you're doing, please hurry,” Cas grumbled, leaning back against the mattress and watching as Dean uncapped a small bottle of clear liquid. He squirted some into his hand, then flipped the cap back on and tossed the bottle onto the bed behind him.

“Okay, this might be cold, but it won't stay that way for long,” Dean said, leaning over Cas and kissing him again. Cas reached up to run his fingers through Dean’s hair, intending to deepen their kiss when Dean’s hand slid over his cock. Cas froze, gasping at the first touch of cool liquid then shuddered as Dean stroked his cock and spread the warming liquid.

“Better, yeah?” Dean asked, voice gone low and husky.

“Yes,” Cas gasped. Dean's hand left him again and he cried out in frustration.

“Shh, come ‘ere,” Dean said, pulling at Cas’ hip to roll him until they were face to face, cocks bumping between their bellies. Dean took them both in hand, and Cas stared down between their bodies, groaning as the heads of their cocks disappeared into Dean’s fist.

“Worth the wait?” Dean asked, sounding as breathless as Cas felt.

“Mmhm,” Cas mumbled, sliding a hand up the back of Dean’s neck and into his hair. He pulled Dean to him for another kiss, moaning at the scrape of stubble against his tender lips. Dean stroked them together, and Cas lost himself in the sensation of Dean’s lips sliding across his while their cocks slid together as they thrust into the channel made by Dean’s fist.

Warmth flared in his abdomen, sending embers of pleasure shooting through his entire body. Dean moaned into his mouth when Cas’ fingers involuntarily tightened in the short strands of Dean’s hair. Cas tugged harder, pulling Dean’s head back to bare his throat and drawing a whimper out of him that set Cas’ blood on fire. He buried his face in Dean’s neck, kissing and sucking as Dean pumped their cocks faster.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean cried out, squeezing harder as his hips began to stutter.

“Dean,” Cas gasped, mouth falling open against Dean’s neck as a flood of pleasure washed over him.

“Yeah, baby, come for me, Cas,” Dean said, moaning, “feels so good.”

Cas lost all rhythm as he thrust against Dean's cock and into his fist, biting down on the meat of Dean’s shoulder to keep from screaming. His entire body tightened and colors burst behind his eyes as he came into Dean’s fist. Dean groaned and came an instant later, Cas’ name on his lips.

Cas forced his jaw to relax and release Dean’s flesh, and they lay together, panting into the space between them. Dean kept his fist wrapped around them, stroking loosely as they came down until Cas became too sensitive and pulled away.

Dean removed his hand with a huffed laugh, draping his arm over Cas’ hip and pressing a kiss to his forehead. Cas opened his eyes and looked up at Dean. His cheeks were flushed, pink lips swollen and parted to allow him to catch his breath, and Cas had never seen him look so beautiful.

“Hey,” Dean whispered, a shy grin pulling the corners of his mouth up. An answering smile crept across Cas’ face, and he leaned forward to press his lips to Dean’s.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, pulling back to meet Dean’s eyes.

Dean huffed a laugh, leaning forward to gently bump their foreheads together. “You should uh, stay here tonight, you know, for safety reasons.”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas said, “for safety.”

They cleaned up with one of their discarded shirts and climbed under the covers, trading lazy kisses and sappy grins as their bodies cooled and drowsiness fell over them. Cas fell asleep to the sound of the rain and Dean’s soft exhalations against his chest.


	11. Chapter 11

The rain continued through the night, leaving the creek swollen and choked with debris washed down from the hills above the lodge. Dean stood in the entrance to the Brookroom with Cas at his side, shining his flashlight at the water to watch its mad rush through the room. “I just want to go on record that I don’t like this plan,” Dean said, “at all.”

“Nobody likes this plan, Dean,” Sam said, walking past with the net he and Eileen had picked up from a local hardware store the night before, “but it’s the only plan we have.”

“We should get into place, Dean,” Cas said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Dean took a deep breath. “Yeah, okay,” he said, and then because he wasn’t sure he’d get the chance again—and because he really fucking wanted to, whether Sam gave him shit for it or not—he slid a hand around the back of Cas’ neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Cas clung to him, and Dean tried to breathe through the lump of anxiety in his throat. They broke apart and Dean cupped Cas’ jaw, holding him still a moment longer. “You start looking like you’re drowning and I’m calling this whole thing off. We’ll get the hell out of here and call some other hunters in to deal with this. I’m not losing you.”

“I’ll be fine, Dean,” Cas said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He leaned forward for one last, soft kiss. “Go on, get set up and call me when you’re ready.”

Dean watched Cas for a moment longer, unwilling to walk away just yet, then turned and jogged toward the bridge, leaving Cas standing alone at the entrance of the room. Sam was already across the bridge, laying out the net. Eileen was putting the finishing touches on a sigil she’d painted onto a large boulder just in front of where Sam would be standing. She finished as Dean reached the bridge, and they met in the middle as she crossed back to the other side. She gave his arm a squeeze and he tried to smile before walking on.

Dean made his way to the large mirror he’d left leaning against a railing, covered with a sheet. He gripped his flashlight between his teeth and moved into position with the mirror, close to where he’d seen the Rusalka appear before. Climbing down the rocks carefully while eyeing the rushing water, he lowered himself to sit and propped the mirror up in front of him facing the bridge. He arranged the sheet over the mirror so that when the time came he’d be able to pull it off quickly. He didn’t want to fuck this up by getting the damn sheet caught or something.

Looking over the top of the mirror, he gave Sam a thumbs up, which Sam returned. Then he turned to Eileen where she stood next to the corresponding sigil across the creek and hopefully hidden from the Rusalka’s view. She nodded and gave him a thumbs up, then stood at the ready with her knife pressed against her palm.

“Cas, you’re up,” he called, then crouched down to wait.

Cas walked into the Brookroom, light from the lantern he carried bouncing off the churning water of the creek. He descended the steps to stand on the platform where he’d stood in a trance the day before. It felt like a lifetime ago, and Dean found himself desperately wishing they’d taken off as soon as Sam had come back with the car. Fuck getting rid of this spirit; they could have let someone else take care of it.

Dean’s guts churned as Cas set the lantern down on the bottom step then sat next to it and waited, like they’d planned. Since he wouldn’t be able to give a verbal signal, might not even be aware of anything at all when the Rusalka showed up, they’d decided he would sit. When Cas stood, Dean would know it was time to uncover the mirror.

They waited in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Dean’s hands became sweaty where he gripped the sides of the mirror though the rest of his body was covered in goosebumps from the cool air and his proximity to the cold water. He started thinking maybe the Rusalka wouldn’t show after all, maybe she’d had enough fun for the day and had fucked off back to whatever watery hole she lived in. But he sat, frozen and waiting, watching Cas for any sign of movement and listening for any sound from Sam on the other side of the mirror.

Cas sat still on his step, but after a while Dean noticed his eyes seemed to become slightly glazed over, their bright blue dulled almost imperceptibly in the dim light of the lantern. And then he rose and Dean’s heart jumped into his throat. It was here.

He waited a few moments more, just to be sure, but when Cas took two steps and reached the edge of the platform Dean sprang into action, pulling the sheet off the mirror. Cas took another step, placing one foot into the rushing water, and Dean had to force himself to stay put and not drop the damn mirror to run to him. He wished he could see what was going on on the other side of the mirror.

They’d discussed letting the mirror draw the Rusalka’s attention before making any other moves. That way she’d be distracted and less likely to fight back, and hopefully let go her hold on Cas. All Dean wanted to do was signal Eileen to hit the sigil right then so they could trap this damn thing, but he had to be patient.

Cas stepped off the platform, both feet now in the water, then slowed to a stop after a couple more steps. Dean kept his eyes glued to Cas, searching for any sign that he was snapping out of this trance, that the Rusalka had been distracted by her reflection. Finally, Cas’ eyes cleared and he turned his gaze on Dean, dazed, but lucent. He shook his head, and stepped backwards onto the platform, lowered himself to sit on the first step.

Dean almost sighed his relief. Now it was all up to Sam and Eileen.

His arms were burning from holding up the weight of the heavy mirror, but Dean kept still and kept his eyes on Cas. Cas watched him, glancing away occasionally towards where Dean assumed the Rusalka must be.

The quiet was eerie—he was used to the monsters they hunted being loud and violent—but then a soft humming started. He looked at Cas in confusion, and Cas nodded towards the end of the creek on the other side of the mirror. The Rusalka was singing to herself. It was a low, melancholy tune, and Dean found himself transfixed by the sound. He understood now why the legends said these creatures lured men with their songs; it was hauntingly beautiful.

Then the song was interrupted by a screeching so loud Dean almost dropped the mirror to cover his ears. He took a chance to peek at Eileen, and saw that she had cut her palm and slapped it against the sigil. He stood, and over the top of the mirror he saw the Rusalka trapped against the boulder where the corresponding sigil had been.

Sam flung the net over it, tangling its arms and legs as it thrashed to get loose. Dean clambered up the rocks, resting the mirror against a railing and ran to help Sam. They’d agreed to leave it trapped against the sigil for as long as it would hold—none of them were really sure how long that would be—and if the sigil stopped working Sam would drag the Rusalka away from the water with the net.

Once Sam seemed to have it mostly under control, Dean turned back to check on Cas. The Rusalka stopped screeching suddenly, and Dean saw Cas stiffen almost imperceptibly.

“The mirror, Dean,” Cas called, his unsteady words almost lost in the steady roar of the creek. Dean watched in horror as Cas’ eyes glazed over again and he began to rise from his seat on the step.

“Son of a bitch,” he said, then shouted over his shoulder as he took off running towards the mirror, “keep a hold of that thing Sammy!”

He reached the mirror and glanced over at Cas just in time to see him stumble over the edge of the platform. Cas lost his balance and a wave of panic hit Dean. Time seemed to slow as he watched Cas fall towards the water. Dean released the mirror, letting it fall back against the railing. He ran to Cas, taking the steps to the creek two at a time.

Cas hit the water before Dean could reach him, his head smacking against a barely concealed stone. Dean’s heart lurched at the sound.

“Cas!” Dean shouted, splashing into the water and falling to his knees to lift Cas. He pulled Cas into his lap, and stared down into his face, wiping blood from his forehead and willing his eyes to open. “Cas, come on. I can’t lose you, not now.”

Cas’ limbs hung limp, fingers trailing into the water, and his eyes remained closed. Dean held him close and pinched his nose, leaning forward to blow air into his lungs. After a few breaths he lowered his ear to Cas’ mouth, straining to hear the sound of Cas breathing on his own, but there was nothing but the sound of the water.

“Cas? Buddy? Come on...” he trailed off, patting Cas’ pale cheek. When he still got no response, he pulled Cas to his chest and buried his nose in his wet hair. He’d failed Cas again, and this time there was no way to fix it. He forgot about everything and everyone else, repeating that one thought over and over in his head. He’d failed Cas.

“I’m so sorry, Cas,” he whispered into Cas’ dark hair. He sank down to sit fully in the creek, paying no attention to the water swirling around him, soaking him from the waist down, and heaved breath after shuddering breath as he held Cas against him. He didn’t have the energy to move from this spot. All he wanted to do was lie down with Cas in his arms, so he did. He welcomed the water that flowed over him, sinking him into darkness.

 

 

Sam struggled to finish tying the Rusalka up on his own when Dean rushed to the mirror. After securing its hands and legs, he wrapped another rope around its neck and rushed to tie that to one of the rails on the bridge. He hoped that would be enough to hold it. Luckily the sigil seemed to still be working.

As Sam finished typing the last rope, he realized the Rusalka had fallen silent, neither shrieking nor humming like she had been earlier, and Sam glanced up to see both Cas and Dean in the creek. Cas was on his knees in the water, and Dean stood next to him, unmoving.

“Dean?” he called out, but Dean didn’t respond. He had left the mirror leaning against the railing instead of holding it up in front of the Rusalka. Sam looked over to Eileen where she was dragging one of the industrial fans to set it near the Rusalka, but her eyes were on her task and her back was turned, so he couldn’t get her attention.

Checking that the knot was secured, Sam jumped up and ran to Eileen, grabbing her arm. “Hold the mirror up,” he said, pointing to where it rested on the ground. She looked to the mirror and then past it, and they both watched, frozen in horror as Dean dropped to his knees in the creek.

“Go,” Eileen urged, and they both sprang into action. Sam ran to the water, praying Eileen would get to the mirror in time.

Dean and Cas sat together in the creek, arms wrapped around each other, faces buried against each other’s necks. Sam couldn’t tell if they were enthralled or not, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He splashed into the water and grabbed an arm in each hand and began dragging them out of the water to the platform. Neither of them moved to help, they just clung tighter to each other, and Sam knew they weren’t seeing reality.

Struggling to pull them up onto the platform together, Sam didn’t notice when the humming started again. But when he had them both safely out of the water and looked up to find Eileen, he heard it. Eileen had placed the mirror directly in front of the Rusalka. She was crouched down behind it, watching Sam. When he gave her a thumbs up he could see her shoulders slump with relief. He signed to her that she should stay there, then turned back to Cas and Dean.

They were both clammy and cold, but they were breathing, and Sam gently shook them and tried to pry them apart. “Guys, hey, wake up.”

Dean grumbled something unintelligible, pulling Cas closer, and Cas tightened his arms and shivered. Sam shook them again, calling their names until finally Dean cracked an eye open, looking around wildly and sitting up, Cas’ limbs still tangled around him.

“Cas?” Dean said, brushing Cas’ hair out of his face, then he looked up and saw Sam standing above him. “Sam? What—” he broke off, his gaze moving frantically to the creek and then back to Cas. “Cas! Wake up,” he said, smacking Cas’ cheek.

“Dean, look at me,” Sam said, trying to get his brother’s attention. “Are you coherent? I gotta go help Eileen, but I’m not leaving you guys until at least one of you is lucid.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, glancing up at Sam before focusing back on Cas. “I’m fine, go.”

Sam squeezed Dean’s shoulder then jogged back over to turn on the fans, pointing them at the softly humming Rusalka. Eileen held the mirror up until he joined her behind it. He replaced her hands with his own, holding the mirror up and settling in to wait with her arms wrapped around him.

Sam could see Cas sitting up now, eyes open, though he still shivered and clung to Dean. They all sat, frozen, waiting while the Rusalka continued her melancholy song. After what seemed like an eternity, the song began to get softer. It slowly faded until it merged with the bubbling rush of the creek, submerging the room in silence except for the sound of the water.

Sam risked a glance around the mirror. The ropes and net were empty, the rock dry as if nothing had even been there.

“She’s gone,” Sam said.

 

 

Dean’s body went boneless with relief, sinking against Cas and burying his face against Cas’ neck. They clung to each other, shivering and wet.

“Dean,” Cas said, gritting the words out through the shivers that wracked his body, “what happened? Why are you all wet?”

“I—I saw—you, Cas,” Dean said, pulling back to look into Cas’ eyes and run a hand across his smooth, unmarred forehead. “I saw you fall—or I thought I did. You hit your head and went under, so I jumped in after you.”

“I don’t feel like I hit my head,” Cas said, his brows furrowing as he reached up to prod at his forehead. He looked back at Dean. “Did she pull you into a vision?”

“She must have,” Dean said, glancing at the creek then back to Cas. “It was so real though. I pulled you out of the water, I felt you, you were real and solid. And you weren’t breathing, Cas, I thought you were—”

“Shh,” Cas said, pulling Dean into his arms. “It’s okay, I’m okay.”

Dean buried his face against Cas’ shoulder and tried to hold back the tears he felt prickling at his eyes. He took a deep shuddering breath and pulled Cas tighter against him. “It was so real,” he mumbled.

“I saw you too,” Cas said, so quietly Dean almost couldn’t pick out the words over the rushing of the creek. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I was so stupid, thinking I could do this. I almost got us both killed. I should’ve listened to you.”

“Hey,” Dean said, pulling back to cradle Cas’ face and forcing him to meet his gaze. “This was not your fault. We both knew the risks, and hell, I could’ve called the whole thing off and gotten us out of here. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”

“No,” Cas said, chuckling and giving Dean one of his barely there, crooked smiles, “I wouldn’t have listened. I was determined to go through with this to prove myself.”

“We’re both a couple of stubborn assholes,” Dean said, smiling.

“Guess we’re perfect for each other, then,” Cas said, grinning.

“Yeah,” Dean said, “yeah, I think we are. I don’t think anyone else would put up with either of us.”

Cas huffed a laugh and pulled Dean into a kiss, and they breathed together, holding each other close until Dean felt something thrown over his shoulders. He pulled back to see Sam tucking a blanket around him and Cas, and Eileen standing close by with a smile on her face.

Dean looked up at Sam with a sheepish grin. “Uh, thanks,” he said, “so uh, me and Cas...” he trailed off, not sure how to explain. He knew Sam had seen him kiss Cas earlier, so maybe he didn’t need to explain, but he still felt the need to acknowledge it.

“Don’t worry, I get it,” Sam said, grinning down at them. “You and Cas. It’s about damn time. Now can we get the hell out of here and get you two warmed up before you both become hypothermic?”

Dean laughed, looking back at Cas. “Yeah, let’s get out of here. I think a warm bath is just what we need.”

Cas blushed and smiled, his blue eyes shining up at Dean.

“Whoa, okay, I do not need details,” Sam said, holding his hands up as if to block the words out. “Now do you guys need help, or can you make it back to the rooms on your own?”

“I think we’ll manage, Sam,” Cas said, “we’ve got each other to lean on.”

“Alright, Eileen and I will clean up in here,” Sam said, holding out hands for Dean and Cas to grasp and pull themselves up, “you guys go get warmed up and get some sleep.”

Dean rearranged the blanket so he could wrap it around his and Cas’ shoulders, and they walked out of the Brookroom. Dean had no desire at all to look behind them.

Outside, the storm had let up so there was just a light drizzle and the ubiquitous fog. Cas shivered against his side, and he wrapped the blanket tighter around them as they walked away from the lodge.


	12. Chapter 12

After the sun rose and they’d all gotten sufficient sleep, the four gathered their stuff and transferred Sam’s things from the Impala to Eileen’s car. It was close enough to mid-day that the fog had burned off, leaving the sky bright blue and dotted with white clouds. Dean shaded his eyes against the bright sunlight and leaned against the Impala as he waited for Sam to throw his duffle bag into the trunk.

Cas came to stand next to him, their shoulders barely brushing. They were still shy around each other, this whole thing being as new as it was, even if it had been years coming. Dean felt Cas’ hand brush against his and he reached out to tangle their fingers together.

Eileen walked over to them, smiling and pointing at them, then did a movement like she was brushing something off her chin with two fingers. Cas huffed a laugh and looked at his feet, and Dean noticed he was blushing.

“What was that? What did you just say?” he asked Eileen.

Eileen laughed and said “That meant you two,” and she pointed at them again, “are cute.” She flicked her chin with two fingers again.

Dean rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back a grin. “You understood that?” he asked Cas.

“Yes, I’ve watched some videos with Sam,” Cas said, “and they use that sign with each other fairly often.”

“What the hell, why wasn’t I included in these ASL sessions?”

“When we get back to the bunker I’ll show you some,” Sam said, walking up and putting his arm around Eileen. “I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“What kind of jerk do you think I am? Of course I’d be interested in learning ASL.”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” Sam said, grinning and holding up placating hands.

“We can practice when we’re all back at the bunker,” Eileen said. “I’ll teach you some choice phrases.” She winked at Dean.

“I like this one, Sammy,” Dean said, huffing a laugh, “you gotta keep her around.”

“I plan to,” Sam said, throwing an arm around Eileen and pulling her close to kiss the top of her head. “We should hit the road. You want to meet up for dinner later?”

Dean cleared his throat and straightened. “Uh, no, we have plans.”

“Plans? What plans?”

“Well, we’re so close to the beach, it’d be a shame not to stop and check it out,” Dean said, grinning at Cas.

“We’re going to drive up the coast,” Cas said, squeezing Dean’s hand and smiling back, “take the long way home.”

“Ah, okay then,” Sam said, grinning. “Well, I’ll give you a call when we get back to the bunker to check in.”

“Alright, sounds good,” Dean said, letting go of Cas’ hand so he could wrap Sam in a quick hug. “Drive safe.” He turned to Eileen and hugged her, then pulled back so she could read his lips. “If this guy tries to make you stop at the Bigfoot Museum, watch out. I think he wants to suggest a threesome.”

“Dude, what the hell?”

Dean laughed, tossing his keys in his hand as he walked around the Impala to the driver’s door. Cas hugged Sam and Eileen then opened up the passenger door and slid in.

“You’re such an asshole,” Sam said through the open window.

“I keep telling him that,” Cas said.

“Hey,” Dean exclaimed.

Sam laughed, slapping the car’s roof before stepping back. “You guys enjoy your quality time.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, feeling a blush creep up his neck though he couldn’t hold back a grin, “yeah, you too.”

 

 

After a short drive, Dean pulled the Impala off Highway 1 and into a small parking lot overlooking the rocky coast. Cas looked at him in confusion.

“What are we doing?”

“Come on, I want to check this place out,” Dean said, smiling at the way Cas’ forehead scrunched up.

Cas raised an eyebrow, but pushed open the door and stepped out of the car. Dean got out and shivered as the cool, misty ocean breeze whipped against him, sending his flannel out behind him like a cape. He pulled it back around him, doing up the buttons in front as he walked around to the trunk to dig out a couple of jackets. He put one on and then walked up behind Cas to place the other jacket over his shoulders.

“Thanks,” Cas said, slipping his arms into the sleeves. When Cas was ready, Dean slid his hand into Cas’ and pulled him towards the end of the parking lot where there was a path carved through the purple flowered ice plants that carpeted the clifftop.

The trail led to the edge of the cliff, and Dean sucked in a breath at the salty spray of the sea as it crashed against the rocks and jumped up to meet them. The wind ruffled his hair and made his eyes water. Cas was staring out over the ocean, his eyes wide.

“Pretty awesome, huh?”

“It is,” Cas breathed.

Dean let go of Cas’ hand and stepped behind him to wrap his arms around his middle and rest his chin on Cas’ shoulder. Cas wrapped his hands around Dean’s forearms where they rested on his waist. The ocean crashed against the rocks below them, and they watched in silence for a moment.

“Some vacation this has been, huh?” Dean said, nuzzling his nose behind Cas’ ear.

“It has definitely been an experience,” Cas replied. “At least we got out of the bunker, right?”

“Right,” Dean said, chuckling.

“We did good, setting that girl free,” Cas said. “She seemed almost happy to go at the end.”

“How could you know that?”

“Well, I could just see her around the mirror from where we were. She glanced at me before she faded away. She was smiling.”

“What?” Dean said, lifting his head from Cas’ shoulder to stare hard at him. “And that didn’t worry you?”

“No, she was at peace. There’s a look people get at the end, when they know their burden is over and they can let go. And besides,” Cas said, a slow grin pulling a corner of his mouth up, “I had you there. I knew you’d punch me again if necessary and carry my heavy ass out of there.”

A laugh burst from Dean, and he tightened his arms and rested his chin back against Cas’ shoulder. “I’ll carry your ass anywhere, sweetheart, no matter how heavy. You did drag my ass out of hell after all. Figure I owe you.”

Cas leaned his head against Dean’s and laughed. “I much prefer sweetheart over buddy as a term of endearment from you.”

“Yeah, well good, you better get used to it,” Dean said, “buddy.”

Cas turned to glare at him and Dean tried to hold in his laughter, but he was done holding back, especially when it came to Cas. He brought a hand up to turn Cas’ face towards him, sliding his fingers into Cas’ unruly dark hair, and kissed the grumpy look off his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Come find me on [tumblr](http://tumblr.braezenkitty.tumblr.com) if you wanna geek out about the show, canon/case fics, supernatural and paranormal creatures, cryptozoology, writing, all that good stuff ;)
> 
> And for those of you who might be interested, I have a deleted Sam/Eileen scene I'll be adding soon. It's gratuitous smut and didn't have any effect on the plot, so I cut it, but I'm editing it now and will upload it as a separate fic in a series with this one.


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